Siheyuan came through and sent Jia Zhang to prison

He Yuzhu blushed, lowered his head even further, and nodded slightly. His and Qin Jingru's wages weren't low at the factory, but they were always busy—they had just bought a few yards of good cloth to make new quilts, purchased thermos flasks, enamel mugs, and other wedding items, and also bought winter coats for Qin Jingru's elderly relatives; their money was already nearly gone. They were worried about not having enough money to buy a bicycle when their uncle noticed.

He Feng understood everything as soon as he saw his expression, and waved his hand with a smile: "Alright, you don't need to worry about the money. My bicycle is just gathering dust in the garage. I've been walking to work lately, so you can ride it for now. You can return mine when you buy a new bike."

He Yuzhu looked up abruptly, his eyes full of embarrassment: "Uncle, this...this isn't good, is it? Your bike is a brand new 'Forever' that you bought two years ago. What if I bump or scratch it while riding it..."

He Feng didn't say anything more. He took out a bunch of keys from his pocket, with a worn-out bicycle license plate hanging on them, and shoved them into his hand: "Why so many formalities? Take it." After saying that, he patted his arm, turned around and walked towards the street corner, "I'm going to work. You guys should hurry up too, don't be late."

Watching He Feng's retreating figure, He Yuzhu clutched the bunch of keys, still warm from his touch, feeling a warm glow in his heart. He turned to Qin Jingru, his eyes shining like stars: "Jingru, look! We're practically bicycle owners now! Come on, I'll take you to work, and I'll pick you up after get off work tonight!"

Qin Jingru smiled, her joy barely concealed—it was a "Forever" brand bicycle, the envy of every girl in the factory. She gave a soft "Mmm," her voice sweet: "Then ride slowly, don't rush."

As He Feng entered the police station compound, just past his shift start time, he bumped into Zhao Lei, who was walking towards him. Zhao Lei was still wearing his police uniform, which was stained with blood, indicating that he had just returned from the hospital.

"Zhao Lei," He Feng called out to him, "went to the hospital? How's Zheng Qiang?"

Zhao Lei quickly stopped and stood at attention: "Director, I just came back from the hospital. Zheng Qiang... Zheng Qiang's tongue was injured too badly. The doctor said it couldn't be reattached. The bleeding has stopped now, and after half a day of observation, he'll be able to be transferred back to the detention center."

He Feng frowned slightly, then relaxed and nodded: "Okay. Remember, from now on, you must stay by his side at all times and protect his safety. During this period, apart from the police officers in charge of guarding him, no one—no matter who they are or what their reason is—can approach him, understand?"

"Understood!" Zhao Lei replied in a deep voice, then couldn't help but ask another question, "Director, don't worry, we will definitely keep a close watch on him. But... should we transfer him to another place first? There are too many people and too many eyes in the detention center, I'm afraid something might go wrong."

He Feng shook his head, looking towards the office building in the distance: "No need. This is none of our business. Someone will come to pick him up." He didn't say who would "pick him up," but the certainty in his tone made Zhao Lei dare not ask any further questions. He just secretly made a mental note and made sure to keep a close eye on Zheng Qiang.

As Ma Xin watched He Feng's figure disappear behind the office door, she quickly picked up the glass of warm honey water on the table. A thin layer of condensation clung to the glass, which she wiped with her fingertips before following him in with light steps, her heels tapping crisply on the terrazzo floor.

He Feng had just sat down in the wicker chair when the rattan creaked softly. Seeing her enter, he rested his elbows on the table, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the old marks on the corner. A hint of apology crossed his face as he scratched his head. "I'm really sorry about yesterday, I drank a little too much. I didn't...I didn't say anything I shouldn't have, did I?" His eyes held a hint of unease, like a child who had done something wrong—after all, losing face in front of a subordinate always made him feel somewhat embarrassed.

Ma Xin gently placed the cup on the corner of his desk, the bottom clinking softly against the surface. A faint smile curved her lips, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "No, I just mentioned Director Zheng a few times." She paused, her voice softening. "I know you two are like brothers, inseparable. It's understandable that you're upset about what happened to him. But some things are in the past, and you have to move on, right? You can't stay stuck in that."

He Feng sighed, shook his head, and tapped his knuckles lightly on the table. "I understand all these principles, but I had a few drinks yesterday and couldn't control my emotions." He looked up at Ma Xin, a hint of self-deprecation in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see this. I bet everyone in the team is laughing at me behind my back." He paused, then changed the subject. "You came all this way, is there something you need?"

Ma Xin had a few questions lingering in her mind—like whether he slept well last night, and whether his head still hurt this morning—but she swallowed them back. Seeing the faint dark circles under his eyes, he clearly hadn't rested well, and now was obviously not the time to talk about those things. She pointed to the cup on the table; the honey water inside had a pale yellow sheen and was covered with fine bubbles: "It's nothing serious. I just thought you drank so much yesterday, you'd definitely have a headache this morning, so I made you a cup of warm honey water. It'll make you feel better."

He Feng felt a warmth in his heart, as if he had been gently bumped by something soft. He picked up the cup, the temperature of the cup wall was just right for his palm, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. He drank a little too quickly, and a little clear water stain stained the corner of his mouth, which slid down half an inch along his jawline.

Seeing this, Ma Xin instinctively pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from her pocket—a light blue one embroidered with delicate white chrysanthemums, its edges worn soft. She took a half-step forward and reached out to wipe his chin. Her fingertips inadvertently touched his chin, the warm touch sending a jolt through her like an electric current, and both of them froze for a moment. Ma Xin's face flushed instantly, the red spreading from her cheeks to her ears, like a perfectly applied layer of rouge. She hurriedly withdrew her hand, clutching the handkerchief as she stood to the side, her fingertips burning, even her breathing becoming soft.

He Feng also felt his face getting hot, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze drifting to the sycamore trees outside the window: "I... I still have some things to take care of here. I just received a notice for assistance in an investigation, and I need to take a look at it right away. If you're busy..."

Ma Xin nodded hurriedly, her voice barely audible, as if afraid of disturbing something: "Then I'll go out first, you go ahead with your work." After saying that, she turned around and walked quickly out of the office. As she closed the door, her hand trembled, and with a soft "bang," she almost bumped into the door frame. Embarrassed, she quickened her pace and almost ran back to her seat, her heart still pounding in her chest.