Siheyuan came through and sent Jia Zhang to prison

He Feng stared at the closed door, raising his hand to touch his chin, where the faint scent of the silk and the warmth of her fingertips seemed to linger. His heart pounded like a startled rabbit, making him feel flustered. He admitted that he did harbor feelings for Ma Xin differently—more than colleagues, more than friends. But the thought of Ran Qiuye's attack case remaining unsolved, the photos in the case file still lying on the corner of the table, and the mastermind still lurking in the shadows, instantly chilled his feelings, as if doused with cold water—right now, investigating the case was the most important thing, allowing no room for distraction.

Days passed, and the police station remained as busy as a wound-up clock. On this particular day, the case analysis meeting chaired by He Feng lasted exceptionally long. The cigarette butts in the ashtray piled up like a small mountain, and the sky outside the window went from dawn to dusk. The streetlights lit up one after another, casting long shadows on the ground.

As soon as he stepped out of the conference room, Zhao Lei quickly approached, holding a black camera in his hands, the body still slightly warm—he had been keeping it close to his chest to keep the lens dry. "Director, these are photos from today's meeting. They cover everything from the opening to the closing, with a couple extra shots of the key points." Zhao Lei's voice was a little tired, but his eyes shone with determination.

He Feng took the camera, weighed it in his hand, and felt the cold metal casing was heavy. He smiled and patted Zhao Lei on the shoulder, the fabric under his hand damp with sweat: "Thank you for your hard work, working so long today. Leave the camera with me for now, I'll take it to be developed and archived first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay, sure." Zhao Lei replied, and seeing He Feng turn to leave, he couldn't help but add, "Director, you should also go back and rest early. Look at your dark circles, you're almost like a panda. No matter how urgent the case is, you have to take care of yourself."

He Feng waved his hand, not stopping, and said, "I know." He took his camera and walked towards the office, the lights in the corridor flickering on and off with his steps. There were still a few documents to take back to his dormitory to review; a thick stack weighed heavily on his briefcase. He knew in his heart that he wouldn't be able to relax until this case was solved, and he had to keep on high alert.

Zhao Lei nodded and handed the camera in his hand to He Feng. The camera casing was a bit chipped, looking quite old. He yawned, "Then I'll go home first, my family is waiting."

He Feng took the camera, weighed it in his hand, and thought that this old-fashioned camera was quite rare these days. He was surprised to see such an old object. He casually placed the camera on the car seat, started the car, and drove back.

As the car drove into the alley and stopped in front of the courtyard house, He Feng got out and saw Yi Zhonghai walking out of the courtyard, carrying a cloth bag and walking hurriedly. He wondered to himself: It's almost midnight, what is Yi Zhonghai doing out at this hour? He usually stays indoors after dark.

Just as he was pondering this, the courtyard door creaked open again, and another person walked out. He Feng subconsciously shrank back, hiding under the shadow of a tree—at first glance, he thought it was Qin Huairu, but upon closer inspection, the way she walked and her posture were different; she looked more like Jia Dongxu's rarely seen aunt.

The drowsiness that had just washed over him vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of gossip. He tiptoed and quietly followed them, curious to see what these two were up to in the dead of night.

Yi Zhonghai and the woman walked one after the other into a small, dilapidated courtyard deep in the alley. The courtyard looked run-down and seemed to be uninhabited. After they went in, they even bolted the door from the inside.

He Feng stood outside the courtyard wall for a moment, secretly marveling: He really hadn't expected Yi Zhonghai to have this kind of trick up his sleeve. He had heard before that Yi Zhonghai was close to Qin Huairu and that their relationship was ambiguous, but he didn't expect that even Jia Dongxu's aunt was involved with him. This was really messy.

He Feng stared at the tightly closed door from afar, his brows furrowed in worry. He could faintly hear the sounds of arguing coming from inside, a woman's shrill cries mixed with a man's angry shouts—the content was utterly offensive. He silently raised his camera, quickly pressing the shutter, capturing the door, the cigarette butts scattered in front of it, and the faint scratches on the wall in the lens.

There was no need to give these photos to anyone; he just wanted to keep evidence to prove that he had indeed witnessed something unsavory. As he turned to leave, he walked very quietly, as if afraid of disturbing something. The wind in the alley was a little chilly, and He Feng tightened his collar, feeling even more stifled—it was clearly someone else's sordid affair, yet seeing it made his chest feel heavy, as if those unbearable images were stained on him, impossible to wash away.

He quickened his pace, wanting only to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible, without even the courage to look back. This kind of underhanded filth was more unsettling than the open arguments, like mud stuck to the soles of his shoes, impossible to shake off.

He Feng stood there, his brow furrowed, the awkwardness in his heart lingering for a long time—he truly hadn't expected that the two families in the courtyard would be so secretly colluding in such a despicable way. These sordid affairs would become a ready-made handle for dealing with the Jia family and the Yi Zhonghai family later. He didn't look any longer, turned around and quickly went home. As soon as he entered, he went straight to the washroom, poured some hot water, and repeatedly wiped his face with a towel soaked in the hot water, carefully scrubbing his neck several times as well.

The scene he had just witnessed was so disgusting that he felt his eyelids twitching—the old saying goes, "Looking at unclean things will give you a sty," and he couldn't get over it without washing himself thoroughly. Only when his face turned red from the steam did the discomfort subside slightly.

On the other side, Chu Fei lingered at the street corner for a long time, a note tucked in his pocket. The note contained the address for meeting Ma Ran, and he had intended to go as agreed—he was now fairly certain that Ma Ran was one of his own. But for some reason, ever since he left home, he felt as if a pair of eyes were watching him from behind. If he walked quickly, the gaze would follow him closely; if he slowed down, he could vaguely glimpse a figure moving around the street corner.

"Being watched?" Chu Fei's heart sank, and he decisively turned and walked back. He knew that he had been transferred here later and was already on the edge of the trust chain. People in the institute were wary of him. If he wanted to gain a foothold, he had to be patient and figure out the situation little by little in order to successfully complete the tasks assigned by his superiors.

What troubled him even more was that he still didn't know Zheng Qiang was actually an informant planted on this side. When he received the mission, he was only told that there was "one of our own" secretly cooperating, but no one was told who it was. Now that Zheng Qiang was in trouble, he still didn't know who the traitor on the other side was, and he couldn't communicate with He Feng—the two of them were on different lines, and they absolutely couldn't make contact before receiving instructions to rendezvous.