Siheyuan came through and sent Jia Zhang to prison

After a hearty meal, the plates on the table were mostly empty, leaving only scraps—the gravy from the braised pork glistened at the bottom, a few cleanly gnawed bones piled haphazardly, and the rich aroma of the braised pork mingled with a faint scent of wine, creating a warm and comforting atmosphere. He Feng picked up the purple clay teapot from the table, tilted his wrist slightly, and filled the celadon teacup in front of Ma Xin. The amber-colored tea was clear and bright, and the rising steam blurred the delicate intertwined floral pattern around the rim of the cup.

"How's the food here?" He put down the teapot and asked casually. "I come here often. The owner is an old chef with a family recipe passed down through generations. Especially the braised pork ribs. The sugar is caramelized to a glossy sheen, and the heat is just right. The meat is tender but not dry. You should try it."

Ma Xin held the warm teacup, the warmth from her fingertips spreading through her veins, dispelling some of the autumn night's chill. She nodded, a satisfied smile on her lips: "It's really good. The dishes taste authentic, the ingredients are substantial, and the seasoning isn't fancy. It's all about being down-to-earth." Especially the steamed sea bass, steamed just right, the fish meat as tender as tofu, perfectly fresh, even the skin retained its bouncy texture—it was clearly a dish made with skill.

He Feng smiled, poured himself a cup, and watched the tea leaves slowly unfurl in the water. He looked up at Ma Xin, his gaze gentle yet insightful: "You seem to have something on your mind. I could tell during dinner. Your brows haven't been relaxed much. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Ma Xin paused, the heat from the rim of the teacup making her fingertips tingle. Her gaze darkened, and she finally voiced her doubts: "The Jiang Hu matter... are we really just going to give up investigating like this?" The source of the new virus is still unclear, and the mysterious beggar who appeared at the crime scene hasn't been caught. So many clues were just starting to emerge, and now it's all being abandoned halfway. It feels like there's a stone stuck in my chest, making me feel uneasy.

He Feng's gaze fell on the tea leaves swirling in his teacup. After a moment of silence, he softly hummed in agreement: "We're not investigating anymore. This morning we received a notification from above saying that this case involves some special circumstances and has been taken over by a specialized department. We just need to transfer the existing materials over." He looked up at Ma Xin, his tone carrying a hint of unspoken helplessness. "Some things are beyond our control. Knowing too much can easily cause trouble, and there's nothing we can do about it."

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming serious, and tapped his fingertips lightly on the table: "Now we need to focus all our energy on Zhang Jie's case. That kid was supposed to be caught and convicted in two days, but he was slit in the detention center, dying under mysterious circumstances. Think about it, the murderer was able to do it right under the guards' noses, with such clean and efficient methods, leaving no trace whatsoever. Clearly, they came prepared and were very familiar with the conditions in the detention center. If we don't get this case straight, not only will we be unable to explain it to the victim's family, but we'll also lose face for our bureau."

Ma Xin nodded, temporarily suppressing her doubts about the Jiang Hu case, and her eyes became focused: "I understand. Tomorrow I will re-examine Zhang Jie's network of relationships, including his accomplices, enemies, and people he came into contact with in the detention center, to see who he had unusual contact with before his death."

"Okay." He Feng responded, then emphasized, "Remember, that's the end of Jiang Hu's matter. Don't mention it to anyone, including your colleagues in the department. This is what the higher-ups want, and it's for everyone's benefit." Some boundaries must be clearly drawn; not a single step can be wrong.

The two chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about Ma Xin's adjustment to her new job after being transferred from the branch office. He Feng casually mentioned some personnel matters and things to note in the bureau, offering advice like a senior colleague. He Feng glanced at the wall clock; the hour hand was already firmly pointing to nine o'clock, and the night outside the window was even darker: "It's getting late. Let me take you home; it's hard to get a taxi here at night."

Ma Xin didn't refuse, straightened her coat draped over the back of the chair, and followed him out of the restaurant. The night breeze carried the coolness of early autumn, mixed with the sweet aroma of roasted sweet potatoes from the street vendors, dispelling some of the effects of the alcohol and making her more sober. When they arrived at the apartment building where Ma Xin lived, the dim streetlights shone through the gaps in the leaves, casting long, thin shadows of the two of them on the mottled pavement.

Ma Xin turned around and looked at He Feng. The glow of the streetlight fell on her face, and her eyes were clear: "He Feng, is there something you want to ask me?" Ever since they were at the restaurant, she had felt that he hadn't said what he wanted to say. The hesitation in his eyes was hard to hide, unlike his usual style.

He Feng paused for a moment, then smiled, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes smoothing out: "You're quite perceptive. How did you figure that out?"

“This is really unlike you.” Ma Xin laughed, her tone teasing with a hint of familiarity. “You’ve always been straightforward and decisive. Today, you’re hesitant and stammering, as if you’re hiding something. Just ask me what’s on your mind. Don’t keep it bottled up; it’s uncomfortable.”

He paused, his gaze fixed on Ma Xin with scrutiny and inquiry: "I don't know if she has contacted you, for example, to subtly inquire about the progress of the case, or... to test the waters, especially regarding the details of Zhang Jie's case."

Ma Xin understood immediately. She shook her head and said firmly, "No. I haven't spoken more than a few words to her since the incident. You know she doesn't usually get along well with people, and I haven't taken the initiative to contact her. If she really asked me about something, I would definitely tell you immediately."

He Feng nodded, not pressing for details, clearly already having a plan in mind. He simply replied in a deep voice, "Okay, I understand." As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and walked out, his shiny leather shoes making a crisp "tap-tap" sound on the clean cement floor, echoing in the empty corridor before quickly disappearing around the corner at the end.

Ma Xin stood there, watching He Feng's figure disappear completely into the shadows, before slowly letting out a sigh of relief. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of the desk, where the paint had been worn smooth and shiny. Just then, from the shadows in the corner, a figure slowly emerged like melting ink. The person wore a dark trench coat, the collar turned up, the brim of the hood pulled low, almost completely obscuring their face, revealing only a section of their sharply defined chin, the jawline taut.

"Why are you in such a hurry to see me? Is something troublesome?" the man asked, his voice specially processed, with a mechanical hoarseness that made it impossible to recognize his original tone.