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    Loves Error

    Author’s Note:

    Please be aware that the protagonists in this story have a low sense of morality; some of the crime-related details might lack professional accuracy; and the early plot foreshadowing will only be revealed later in the story. Therefore, readers with high moral standards, those who require high accuracy in crime investigation details, and impatient readers, please proceed with caution.

    Whether in terms of plot or relationship, it is recommended not to jump to conclusions too early, as there will be many twists and turns. Most readers find the relationship line sweet, with both protagonists deeply loving each other and willing to risk their lives for one another. However, if you are particularly concerned about who gives more in the relationship before they fall in love, please also proceed with caution.

    Additionally, the author has consulted many sources, but modifications have been made to suit the storyline, so it is not entirely realistic. Please do not take it too seriously. The sources are too numerous and varied to list individually. In short, the professionally strong content has been researched and cannot be fabricated out of thin air; quotations will be marked where applicable. If any are missed, please remind me.

    Finally, I hope everyone discusses peacefully and gets along harmoniously. Thank you very much!

    Prologue

    In the deep autumn of October, a rare torrential downpour fell.

    The streetlamp at the alley’s entrance couldn’t penetrate the dense rain curtain, only illuminating the edges of the rain lines. The silvery light flickered like blades falling from the sky, rushing into a swift and cold murder.

    The alley, only three meters wide, led ten steps in to the back door of a neighboring bar, which directly connected to the kitchen. Three half-height garbage bins stood at the door, with the store actively responding to the city government’s recent call for wet and dry waste separation, also setting up a recyclable bin specifically for empty bottles.

    A pristine sea blue watch lay quietly on a pile of scattered wine bottles, continuously washed by the relentless rain, its hands pointing to eleven o’clock.

    The bar was bustling inside, and the street outside was busy with cars, leaving the dark rainy alley unvisited at midnight.

    No one noticed the faint tinge of blood in the rainwater flowing from the alley to the roadside drain.

    The man lying in front of the trash bins was still struggling, his wounds continuously oozing blood. His eyelids stung from the raindrops, barely opening a slit to slowly move his eyes toward the young girl lying next to him.

    The girl, once fair-skinned, was now deathly pale. Facing him, her neck bore two gushing slashes, her shocked expression frozen, her eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape, as if wanting to say something—perhaps an apology—but he would never know.

    Five minutes ago, she was a living person, now a cold, tragic corpse.

    The man’s strength inexplicably drained away, his consciousness floated out of his body, helplessly watching himself struggle for less than five minutes before collapsing as well, likely to meet the same fate as the girl.

    Straining his neck, he looked toward the recyclable bin.

    Hopefully… someone could hear.

    Footsteps approached through the rain after a phone call ended in the alley. The sound stopped by his ear, and suddenly, the rain above ceased.

    A long black umbrella, like a giant curtain, blocked the sky. The newcomer had their subordinate hold the umbrella, crouching down slowly, extending a slender hand over his neck—this hand, though unarmed, had easily slashed the girl’s carotid artery earlier, ominously.

    For a brief moment, the man saw something flash under the faint streetlight, a glimmer that vanished instantly, like some pure jewel.

    The recording on the watch had only three seconds left. He wanted to speak but was silenced by a sharp blade at his throat.

    The visitor, wearing a tight mask, spoke in a muffled voice, sentencing him to death:

    “Sorry, Officer Mu. ‘God’ can’t save you… He can’t save anyone.”

    ***

    7 Months Later, May 27th.

    In Xinjinq District, Pingyi City, the name reflects its reality: from a bird’s eye view at night, countless bright lights scatter like fragments of gold across the dark land.

    The city government aims to turn this district into a national high-tech zone. In the past decade, four or five tech parks and incubators have been built, attracting various tech startups. To match the district’s high-tech, high-end ambiance, all old and shabby buildings have been demolished, replaced by towering office buildings. High-end business and entertainment venues have sprung up like mushrooms after the rain, making it a new investment hotspot and luxury haven for the old and new rich.

    Ask any passerby outside the district about Xinjinq, and nine out of ten will say, “Oh, that’s where the rich live.”

    Jun Yue Grand Hotel, occupying 1,700 square meters north of Kangping Avenue, is a prime example.

    Regardless of season, the wide road in front of this platinum five-star hotel’s red carpet is always bustling with traffic, well-organized.

    However, tonight, the traffic in front of Jun Yue Grand Hotel was slightly congested. Two uniformed doormen had been busy for nearly two hours, continuously bowing and greeting guests.

    The suffering wasn’t limited to just the two of them. The lobby manager had also been dutifully standing there all night, smiling warmly as he guided each guest to the revolving door, from where the hostesses would lead them to the banquet hall on the third floor.

    Behind the open bronze doors, ten golden Roman columns created a spacious area for the guests.

    At ten o’clock in the evening, the music was still playing, and the guests had not yet dispersed. The bar in the hall was busy preparing drinks and cocktails for the guests. The bartenders were skilled, and the service staff were respectful, ensuring that the guests experienced supreme luxury, embodying the business philosophy of the Jun Yue Grand Hotel: high-end, luxurious, and grand.

    “Hey! Handsome! Two pints of Tsingtao beer!”

    The men and women in formal attire at the bar were all stunned, shocked by the loud and incongruous order. They turned to look—

    They saw a sturdy, solid man with his arm around the shoulder of a tall, lean man, walking in together.

    Both were wearing professional, identical black suits, white shirts, and black ties. They were either bodyguards or insurance salesmen.

    The tall, lean man lowered his head, covering his face to avoid the disdainful looks from all around, wishing he could escape the planet immediately. He cursed quietly, “Drink your damn beer! Why don’t you order some barbecue too? And a garlic clove? Aren’t you ashamed?”

    The sturdy man had already reached the bar, slapping the marble counter, and shouted, “You think I don’t want to? Who knew this damned place doesn’t allow takeout? Even when I accompanied the young master to the White House, they allowed us to order fried chicken and fries!”

    “Then go eat outside, no one’s stopping you. Don’t drag me down with you.”

    “Hey, if I go out and something happens to the young master, what then? Do you think your scrawny arms and legs can protect him? Hey, handsome, where’s my beer?”

    The bartender, Wu Wei, was flustered. Seeing these two towering figures, he dared not delay. But the wine cabinet behind him was filled with high-end wines from various wineries, and he really didn’t have any down-to-earth beer. He could only apologize with a bitter face, “I’m sorry, we don’t serve beer here.”

    “No beer? You can’t even fulfill such a small request for a guest, and you call yourselves a five-star hotel?” The sturdy man was furious, his originally almond-sized eyes now wide as walnuts. His skin was as dark as iron, making him look like a modern-day Guan Yu, seemingly capable of splitting the bar with one strike.

    Wu Wei trembled with fear, involuntarily taking a step back, his legs weak. He suddenly bumped into someone behind him, shivering again. He looked up and met a pair of sharp, piercing eyes, jumping away in shock.

    The man he had bumped into patted his service uniform—it was the same size for all, but while it looked slightly loose on Wu Wei, it fit the man perfectly, every crease smoothed out by his well-toned muscles, as if it were custom-made.

    “Careful.” The man smoothed out the creases, his voice cold and deep.

    Wu Wei nodded repeatedly like a pecking chicken.

    The man turned his gaze to the two at the bar. “Can I help you with anything?”

    His gaze was piercing and profound, giving the impression that he saw through everything, yet also seemed distant and unapproachable. His tone, though polite, carried no hint of respect, as if he were merely asking out of obligation, his indifferent attitude slightly off-putting.

    But he evidently didn’t need to worry about being disliked by guests.

    The women who had been watching the commotion at the bar stopped laughing, each turning into a demure, elegant lady, casting shy yet eager glances at the new server.

    The man stood at least 1.85 meters tall, his young face strikingly handsome. His side-parted bangs fell unruly over his forehead, and under his slightly furrowed brows were a pair of deep, dark eyes, as if suppressing an untamed spirit. His aggressive looks could pierce right into a person’s heart.

    The sturdy man, still fuming, was taken aback by the face that lit up the bar, his anger momentarily interrupted. His temper cooled somewhat, and he asked more calmly, “Hey, handsome, are you in charge here?”

    The man, carrying a tray under his arm, had just finished serving a round of champagne. He shook his head, “No, I’m just a waiter.”

    The tall, lean man couldn’t bear to see his companion making a spectacle of himself in such an upscale place. He pinched the flesh on the sturdy man’s arm, “Are you done yet? Making a scene, you’ll alarm the young master, and he’ll drag you back and have you killed.”

    The sturdy man, despite his burly appearance, seemed fearless. But hearing this, he hesitated, “He wouldn’t, right? I just want a pint of hometown beer. After so many years abroad, being loyal and diligent, I finally come back home, and he’d kill me over a pint of Tsingtao beer?”

    “Tsingtao beer, you say?” The new bartender took over the conversation, setting down his tray, and said calmly, “This hotel doesn’t serve beer, but if you’re willing to wait twenty minutes, I can go to the supermarket two blocks away and get some for you.”

    The sturdy man’s face lit up with joy, “Yes, please! Handsome, you’re the best. That guy there must be new and doesn’t know the ropes!”

    Wu Wei, who had been called “handsome” earlier, realized he was overshadowed by the truly handsome and capable newcomer. He nodded bitterly but felt compelled to clarify out of pride, “Um… I’m not new. I’ve been working here for three years. He’s the one who just started a few days ago.”

    “Shame on you! Three years here and still not as good as the new guy!” The sturdy man’s retort was spot on.

    “…” Wu Wei couldn’t argue, feeling wronged as he watched the popular new bartender leave.

    The matter was finally resolved, and the tall, lean man finally dared to lower his hands and lift his head—his gaunt face was sharply angular, his gaze resolute. For someone nearing forty, he looked relatively young, though a menacing scar extended from beneath his right eye down to his chin, as if his face had been torn off and stitched back on, making him appear intimidating. The surrounding guests were startled and discreetly moved away from the bar area.

    The tall, lean man was accustomed to being feared and didn’t mind. He continued to admonish his companion, “Don’t get drunk. The young master said there might be a situation tonight.”

    The sturdy man scoffed dismissively and patted his stomach, producing a sound akin to knocking on a watermelon under his taut suit, “Don’t worry about me, Lou Ye. I can handle a lot of booze. I could down a dozen beers and still take on the entire Avengers. Relax.”

    “Really?” An elderly, amused voice sounded behind them.

    Wu Wei squinted and saw another man who looked like he sold insurance.

    This elderly man, also in a three-piece suit, had white hair neatly styled with hairspray, looking far more spirited than the old men who strolled in the park. His back was straight, exuding vitality and robustness.

    The sturdy and lean men immediately stood up straight and turned around upon hearing his voice, asking with concern, “Uncle Hong, why did you come down? Shouldn’t you be with the young master?”

    “He just had a big argument with his second uncle and sent me down to get a bottle of wine to make amends.” The kindly old man smiled at the young bartender behind the bar, “Please give me a bottle of Mumm Cordon Rouge champagne, preferably an older vintage.”

    Wu Wei secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the young master they mentioned had good taste and didn’t make any strange requests. He promptly turned and precisely retrieved a bottle of 1998 champagne from the grid-like wine rack behind the bar, presenting it respectfully with gloved hands, eager to hear a word of praise to soothe his feelings after being chastised for “three years and still not as good as a newcomer.”

    —However, when he saw that Uncle Hong was also wearing gloves, but of a more refined and smudge-resistant silk, he realized he was mistaken and still just a junior.

    Twenty minutes later, Lou Baoguo finally got to enjoy the hometown beer he had been longing for, chilled no less. He gulped it down, feeling utterly refreshed, not minding the fine white foam clinging to his nose.

    “Ah, that’s the stuff! Zhou, you should have a glass too! Anyway, today’s expenses are all on the young master.” Lou Baoguo grabbed Zhou Yi beside him, not forgetting to thank the bartender who fetched the beer, “Thanks, handsome!”

    The handsome bartender shook his head gently, balancing a tray laden with bottles and wine glasses with one hand, and stepped out from behind the bar, merging into the bustling banquet hall.

    Lou Baoguo squinted, watching his tall figure leave, “Pretty cool guy, huh? Our young master likes this type, right?”

    Zhou Yi, drinking moderately, still had two-thirds of his beer left. He glanced sideways, “What, you want to tie him up and deliver him to the young master’s bed?”

    “Hey, good idea.”

    “Get lost. The director of the district public security bureau is right over there, see? He’d arrest you on the spot, and probably shake your hand in gratitude, ‘Comrade Lou, thank you for turning yourself in. This is the fastest we’ve ever caught a criminal. We should apply for a Guinness World Record!’”

    Lou Baoguo laughed heartily, finishing the rest of his beer in one gulp, slamming the glass down on the bar with a bang. Suddenly, he looked up and stared intently at Wu Wei, his smile vanishing instantly.

    Wu Wei’s legs trembled with fear. How could someone change their expression so quickly, like a Sichuan opera mask? He regretted not taking his horoscope’s warning about bad luck today more seriously and showing up for work. Gritting his teeth, he asked, “Sir… is there anything else you need?”

    Unexpectedly, the fierce-looking sturdy man asked him a simple question, “You said that handsome guy, he just started recently?”

    Wu Wei, seeing that he wasn’t in trouble, nodded quickly, “Uh-huh, the colleague who used to work the bar with me resigned, and he applied just as we needed someone. The manager hired him for this position.”

    Lou Baoguo continued, “What’s his name?”

    “Um… Bai Zhao. Bai as in pine tree, Chao as in morning and evening.”

    Lou Baoguo glanced at Zhou Yi, who frowned in thought and then shook his head, “Never heard of him.”

    Lou Baoguo said, “Keep an eye on him. Someone who looks that good and just started, not going into modeling but waiting tables? Something’s up.”

    “Got it, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

    Wu Wei listened, bewildered. Their conversation seemed to suggest they were wary of Bai Zhao. He couldn’t help but worry as he watched his new colleague mingling with the guests—

    “Sir, your tequila, neat.” The tall bartender presented a glass.

    The young man with stylish brown curly hair was chatting with a beautiful woman, both dressed in formal attire. The man wore an elegant white suit, perfectly tailored to slim his not-so-muscular frame, while the woman was in a dazzling golden gown, sparkling and ethereal.

    The young man was too busy charming the lady to pay attention to the bartender, casually waving his fingers to dismiss him while continuing his conversation, “It’s been ages. Do you remember our horse riding lessons in high school…”

    He stopped mid-sentence, noticing the bartender hadn’t left, and turned back with annoyance, “Is there something else?”

    The waiter’s gaze shifted from the necklace around the woman’s neck—a gold pendant necklace with a round-cut yellow diamond.

    The woman, with a gentle smile on her face, reached for a glass of Perrier-Jouët on the tray: “Don’t blame him, it’s my fault for forgetting the drink, sorry.”

    The waiter shook his head, “It’s okay.” Then he continued to deliver drinks to other guests.

    With this brief interruption, the young man in the white suit also noticed the necklace on the woman’s neck and remarked with a smile, “The yellow diamond matches your dress perfectly today. I’ve also prepared a gift for you. Recently, our family’s mine unearthed some high-quality raw rubies. They’ve been sent for processing. I’ve been so busy with business in the US that I haven’t had a chance to see you. Once they’re ready, I’ll send them to you.”

    The woman blushed slightly, her slender fingers gently brushing the necklace at her throat, “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you. This necklace is called ‘Homeland of Diamonds’ and was bought at a Sotheby’s auction last year. Du Qiu said it’s a meaningful piece since we’re soon returning to our homeland.”

    Hearing the name, the young man’s smile faltered briefly, a look of disdain flashed across his face before he regained his bright demeanor, “It seems Du Qiu treats you well, but his control is a bit much. Even dictating what necklace you wear. You’re only engaged now, how will it be once you’re married? If it were me, I wouldn’t be like that.”

    The woman took a sip of the golden champagne, its fruity richness and floral aroma evident, but her face showed a trace of melancholy, “He’s always been headstrong, you know that. Look at tonight’s welcome party, so many guests came for him, yet he hasn’t shown up, leaving me to handle everything alone, sigh…”

    She sighed, glancing involuntarily toward the north—

    The banquet hall had two levels, with twin spiral staircases at the north end, flanked by angel statues at the base. The highest point, over ten meters above the ground, led to a platform connecting to the skywalk and the guest rooms.

    At this moment, the woman’s eyes brightened with joy, “He’s finally here!”

    The young man followed her gaze in surprise, noticing two figures on the previously empty platform, apparently having come from the guest rooms.

    The distance made it hard to discern their faces, but it seemed the man in front, carrying a briefcase, was middle-aged, around forty, walking unsteadily as if drunk. The other figure, walking four or five meters behind with hands in pockets, appeared older… no.

    The young man suddenly realized the second person wasn’t older, just had strikingly long silver hair down to his shoulders.

    The dazzling Napoli coffee checkered suit he wore was completely overshadowed by his rebellious hair color.

    “Du Qiu’s gone mad… what kind of hairstyle is this?!” the young man was dumbfounded.

    Appearing in such an unkempt state at a gathering of the city’s elite was sheer audacity, outright reckless.

    “If his grandfather saw that hairstyle, he’d pass out.”

    The woman sighed, “Because his grandfather said he wasn’t mature enough, he dyed his hair in defiance, saying, ‘Isn’t white hair mature enough?’ His grandfather is used to his antics by now; otherwise, he’d really get sick from anger.”

    The young man snorted disdainfully, muttering, “He’s never been normal… who’s the man in front?”

    “Oh, that’s his second uncle, Yu—”

    The woman’s words abruptly stopped as if an invisible hand gripped her throat, her eyes widened in shock, becoming blank and dazed.

    Suddenly, she let out a sharp, piercing scream!

    “Ahhhh!!!”

    Her gentle voice rose to a terrifying pitch, her delicately made-up face twisted in horror, transforming in an instant from a beauty into a ghostly figure.

    The young man was so terrified that he nearly collapsed, his legs weak, not only from the scream but also from what he saw on the platform:

    The middle-aged man had dropped his briefcase, was leaning on the railing of the platform, and had climbed over it!

    Just a step forward, and he would plunge down from over ten meters high!

    Because of the sudden scream, everyone present—guests, security, waiters—noticed the commotion on the stairs. Screams erupted everywhere, reaching a crescendo in an instant!

    The middle-aged man outside the railing smiled eerily, let go of the railing, closed his eyes peacefully, spread his arms, and began to fall forward into the void, as if embracing a dream—

    “Catch him!!”

    “Someone help!!!”

    “Help, ahhh!!!”

    Boom!

    A loud, dull thud.

    An eerie silence fell over the place.

    All the guests who had been shouting for help had retreated four or five meters away, leaving a clear space, expecting someone to catch the falling man, but no one did.

    Only one person remained motionless.

    Bai Zhao held the last glass of Hell’s Tequila, silently looking down at the body that had fallen less than half a meter from his feet—it was apt to call it a body now, as the middle-aged man’s head had hit the hard marble floor first, shattering like a smashed watermelon.

    The brain matter and blood from the corpse slowly spread out, resembling a grotesque, blooming crimson flower, its eerie petals extending to the soles of Bai Zhao’s shoes.

    He looked up, facing the staircase entrance, where two large angel statues gazed down mournfully at the horrific scene below.

    Atop the spiral staircase, the silver-haired man withdrew his hand, which had failed to reach the falling figure. After pausing for a few seconds, he leaned on the railing, standing higher than the angels, like an indifferent deity. His cold, detached gaze swept over the horrified crowd below, finally resting on the person closest to the body.

    Their eyes met.

    The man’s piercing gaze cut through the air thick with panic, locking onto Bai Zhao as if marking his prey, yet his expression remained eerily calm.

    Yu Duqiu observed him for a moment, then slowly curled his lips into a sinister smile, winking slyly at the extraordinarily handsome man below.

    [1] 放浪形骸,胡作非为: This is an idiomatic expression meaning “unruly and doing whatever one pleases.” It conveys a sense of recklessness and disregard for norms.

    [2] Tsingtao beer is a Chinese beer, only ever brewed in the sea port of Qingdao, in North Eastern China.

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