BL Ch108

By the time they returned from the cemetery to Palace No. 1, it was evening. Hong Liangzhang, as usual, personally came out to greet them. Upon seeing his grandson, whom he hadn’t seen in months, his eyes crinkled into slits, his white eyebrows curving like silver hooks. He beamed, pulling Hong Yuanhang’s scrawny shoulders into an embrace. “Xiao Hang, are you tired?”

Hong Yuanhang forced a dry smile, his eyes darting nervously toward Yu Duqiu. “I’m fine, slept a bit on the plane…”

Yu Duqiu’s gaze swept over the grandfather and grandson, pretending not to notice, and headed straight for the main building.

Bai Zhao hurried to catch up, lowering his voice. “Did you install cameras or bugs in his room?”

Yu Duqiu shook his head. “No need. If I did and they found out, it’d tip them off. Besides, Palace No. 1 is huge, with plenty of spots where mics can’t pick up sound. The two of them could stroll in the woods or walk the golf course—anywhere to scheme. They’re not dumb enough to plot in a room most likely to be bugged. Ji Lin also advised me to hold off. The guy’s already in my grasp, he’s not going anywhere.”

Bai Zhao asked, “You brought him back to the country just to keep an eye on him, doing nothing else?”

“Come on, I’m a law-abiding citizen. How could I resort to vigilante justice behind the police’s back?” Yu Duqiu’s face was the picture of innocence.

Bai Zhao replied, “I didn’t mention vigilante justice.”

Yu Duqiu brushed it off with a smile, sidestepping his accidental slip of true intentions. “Hong-bo’s intel network in our household is too vast. Any move I make could reach his ears. To avoid spooking the snake, I’ve got to minimize my actions. Ugh, that’s the cost of being the King—everyone’s target.”

Taking advantage of no one watching, Bai Zhao grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you win. You just watch the game.”

This year’s Mid-Autumn Festival fell on a weekend, giving those usually busy with work or school a chance to reunite with family. By morning, five or six Mid-Autumn-related topics were trending online, the festive spirit of family reunions spilling from the internet into real life.

The Yu family’s banquet this year wasn’t exactly a full reunion. Grandpa Yu Youhai remained a recluse, only sending a phone call with blessings. Yu Duqiu’s father was tied up with overseas business and couldn’t make it. Yu Jiangyue’s return for the banquet was already a rare treat.

Despite the word “family” in family banquet, the guest list extended beyond close relatives and friends to include trusted allies and business partners, making it, in essence, a social-commercial event.

Yu Duqiu sent the day’s banquet schedule to Ji Lin, instructing him to slip in quietly through the hidden south gate of Palace No. 1 and share the task force’s latest updates.

When Bai Zhao carried breakfast into his bedroom, he saw Yu Duqiu engrossed in a lively phone call. He set the tray down heavily, raising an eyebrow. “Who’re you chatting with? Lu Jingyu?”

Yu Duqiu had just hung up, stretching his long legs out from under the covers to kick him lightly. “It’s Ji Lin. What’s with the random jealousy? Didn’t I make it up to you last night?”

“You’ve got too many priors.” Bai Zhao picked up the necklace that had lain on the floor all night, wiped it clean, and carefully fastened it around Yu Duqiu’s neck, his hands brushing the back of his nape. “What’d Ji Lin say?”

The position felt like an embrace, and Yu Duqiu naturally wrapped his arms around him.

Bai Zhao had showered at dawn and again that morning, washing away last night’s sweat. His skin now carried the fresh scent of body wash. Yu Duqiu buried his face in Bai Zhao’s shoulder, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, finding it more soothing than the finest aromatherapy.

Given the filthy environment of Bai Zhao’s upbringing, one might expect poor hygiene, yet he’d developed a surprising habit of cleanliness, which Yu Duqiu adored. After indulgent satisfaction, falling asleep holding a fresh, warm body—who cared who’d taken the initiative to knock on whose door?

Yu Duqiu leaned bonelessly against his shoulder, playfully tugging at Bai Zhao’s earlobe, speaking lazily. “Their bureau’s economic crime unit’s been at it for half a month. Du Shuyan’s too slick—his accounts are spotless, truly ‘clean as a whistle.’ But hard work pays off. Yesterday, they finally found several suspicious transactions in one of his employee’s accounts.”

“There was one right before last October’s package case, but it went to an overseas account. On paper, it’s all above board. Foreign banks, citing reputation and confidentiality, don’t let foreign police check recipient info without formal requests and procedures, which take time. Ji Lin asked if I had connections in that area. I said, for his sake of doting on Mu Hao like a devoted wife, I’d look into it. Then he hung up.”

“He’s probably rushing over with a gun to shoot you.” Bai Zhao deadpanned a joke. “How’ll you check? Bribe the bank president?”

Yu Duqiu said lightly, “No need for that hassle. It’s a small bank—I’ll just buy it. Then I can dig however I want.”

“…”

Facts proved money could let evil run rampant or make justice unstoppable. Ji Lin should be glad Yu Duqiu was on their side.

Bai Zhao tucked away his quiet shock, focusing on another key point. “Who’s the employee with the shady account?”

If Du Shuyan wanted to stay completely clean, even if exposed, he’d need to pin all blame elsewhere. That employee would have to be unwaveringly loyal, willing to take the fall. Did such a selfless, ideal employee—or rather, such a fool—really exist?

Yu Duqiu, done toying with his ears, slid his fingers into Bai Zhao’s short, stiff hair, kissing a lingering red mark on his neck. “Besides the Queen, who’d be so devoted to the King? Besides him, who’s most qualified to be the Queen?”

They’d long suspected this person.

An image flashed in Bai Zhao’s mind: a tall figure, each step echoing softly, treading through rain-soaked blood on the ground, emerging slowly from a dark alley’s depths, shadowy and ghostlike. Relentless rain dimmed the streetlight’s faint glow, struggling to illuminate the figure’s form—

The imagined blur merged with that night’s fuzzy surveillance footage in a fleeting moment, negatives canceling out, the full picture suddenly clear:

The figure raised a long-handled black umbrella, revealing a stark face—sharp features, thick brows, deep eyes, an eagle-hook nose adding a touch of ruthless menace.

The man smiled politely across the imagined divide, a ring on his finger dripping a vivid ruby-red blood drop.

In the still-warm early autumn air, Bai Zhao broke out in a cold sweat.

“Tonight, we might confirm if our guess is right.” Yu Duqiu’s hand slid to his firm back, pleased to feel smooth skin—money well spent on scar-removal specialists. “Remember, your job isn’t to charge in or arrest anyone—that’s for the police. Dig up one solid clue tying them to the crime, then get out. Leave the rest to the cops.”

Bai Zhao nodded. “Got it. In short, we can’t let them pin everything on Hong-bo. They need to pay, right?”

“For me, yes. For the police, there’s another goal—keeping Du Shuyan’s ‘buyers’ in the dark for now. So, for both personal and public reasons, we need hard evidence to nail them before any arrests.” Yu Duqiu cupped his face, kissing his lips. “Be careful. Keep the ring on, stay in view of the cameras. Ji Lin will keep you safe.”

Bai Zhao held the back of his head, not letting him pull away, breathing against his lips, voice tender. “You be careful too. I can’t stay by your side all day, but I’ll leave something to protect you.”

Yu Duqiu was melting into the sweetness when a sharp click sounded.

“…?”

He looked down, seeing the little beast’s hand retreat from under the covers, having stealthily slipped a cold, hard metal object onto him—onto a very critical spot.

“Protects you from temptation.” Bai Zhao nipped his ear. “Found it when you locked me in the basement. Perfect for taming your wandering heart, young master.”

Yu Duqiu lifted the covers, saw the thing, and looked up in disbelief. “Courting death? Give me the key.”

Bai Zhao backed to a safe distance, face blank. “Key’s hidden. Behave, and I’ll unlock it after the banquet.”

Yu Duqiu laughed in exasperation. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Is this necessary?”

“I hold grudges, young master.” Bai Zhao smoothed his shirt, grabbing a tie from the closet, knotting it as he spoke. “You hugging Lu Jingyu and going into a room right in front of me? I’ll remember that forever. He’s coming today—think I’d trust you two alone?”

…Unbelievable. Before climbing the ranks, he played pitiful for sympathy; now in power, he bared his fangs, settling old scores.

“I told you, I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t, but that hour I waited outside your door, I died a thousand times.”

Yu Duqiu froze.

“You once said you couldn’t rest easy without testing to that extent. Same for me.” Bai Zhao finished dressing, saying coolly, “After all, you haven’t said you love me, have you?”

Yu Duqiu stared as he sauntered out, snapping back only after a long pause, one thought echoing in his mind:

I’ve raised a wolf…

For the evening’s banquet, Palace No. 1 was professionally decorated inside and out. The main hall had been revamped days earlier, excess furniture cleared to make room for decorations, buffet stations, coffee machines, and a temporary bar.

When Ji Lin and Lu Qing, disguised as staff, slipped in through the back door, workers were perched on tall ladders, draping a massive white silk sheet across the five-to-six-meter-high ceiling. A few pink petals fluttered down from the gaps. They picked them up, realizing they were fresh roses.

“What’s Mr. Yu up to?” Lu Qing wondered. “Such pretty petals, why hide them in the ceiling and cover them?”

Ji Lin replied, “Who knows? We’re not here for the banquet anyway.”

Just then, Yu Duqiu and Yu Jiangyue descended the spiral staircase. As if coordinated, both wore silver-white tailored formalwear, looking like moon deities gracing the earth, radiant and ethereal.

Oddly, Young Master Yu’s gait seemed off today, lacking his usual poised elegance.

Yu Jiangyue noticed, scolding, “Walk properly. What’s with the wobbling?”

Yu Duqiu gave a dry laugh, unable to explain his predicament.

Lu Qing’s eyes sparkled at the stunning woman. Ji Lin nudged her. “Wipe your drool, we’ve got a job to do.”

Lu Qing sighed, “Ji-ge, even if your heart’s taken, you should react to a beauty like that.”

Ji Lin panicked, stammering, “Taken? My heart’s with the job, with the people!”

Lu Qing scoffed, muttering, “Still denying it, the whole team practically knows…”

Yu Duqiu spotted them at the foot of the stairs, his furrowed brow easing. “Yo, little wife, here early.”

If not for the elder present, Ji Lin would’ve let fly a couple of curses.

Yu Jiangyue had heard of the young man before her. “Officer Ji, right? Duqiu’s mentioned you a few times. Thanks for helping him out.”

“Mom, you got it backward—I helped him… Okay, fine, he helped me.” Yu Duqiu, catching her icy glare, wisely backpedaled.

Ji Lin couldn’t resist a jab. “Even you have moments you don’t dare mouth off.”

Yu Duqiu fired back, “My mom’s already approved of Bai Zhao. You? Got even a hint of progress?”

“…”

A precise, brutal strike, leaving the single cop in tatters.

“Enough banter, how childish.” Yu Jiangyue swatted his head. “They’re guests, show some hospitality.”

Yu Duqiu didn’t dare act too brazen in her presence and knew Ji Lin and Lu Qing shouldn’t linger in the busy hall, risking recognition. He led them to the study, opening a hidden door behind the bookshelf. “I had Bai Zhao move all of Palace No. 1’s surveillance here. You can hide inside, no one will find you. There’s a secret room next door—Captain Ji’s been in it before. Bai Zhao’s email mentioned meeting ‘under the roses,’ and Hong-bo knows that’s the secret room. He’ll likely tip off his contact.”

Lu Qing, seeing this movie-like setup for the first time, gasped, “People actually build secret rooms at home?! Mr. Yu, how many secrets do you need to discuss?”

Yu Duqiu stepped in, turning with a grin. “Secrets? You overestimate me, Ms. Lu. These rooms were originally for clandestine affairs. Door locked, no one interrupts, no cries or pleas escape, and only I can open it. Thrilling, right?”

Lu Qing replied, “…Ji-ge, got your cuffs? I wanna arrest him.”

Ji Lin said, “Got ‘em, but for a guy like this, don’t waste police resources—just shoot him on the spot.”

Yu Duqiu winked. “Kidding, I’m gentle with lovers. Ask around in the scene. Though my current one… he’s pretty harsh on me.”

The last bit was so soft Ji Lin and Lu Qing missed it, already stunned by the secret room’s setup—

On an eight-meter-long huanghuali wood table sat dozens of oversized monitors and computers, each screen running multiple windows. Every surveillance camera in Palace No. 1 fed into this hub.

It looked like a miniature rocket launch control center.

Yu Duqiu approached, demonstrating as he explained. “Besides the original thirty night-vision cameras, I added a hundred twenty-five hidden ones. They’re programmed with facial recognition for Du Shuyan and his entourage. If they enter range, the AI locks onto them with a red box, tracking their movements. Or click their profile in the database, and it switches to their live feed.”

Ji Lin finally let out the curse he’d been holding. “Holy shit! What kind of black tech is this? Can you donate it to our bureau?”

Yu Duqiu admired, “As expected of thrifty Xiao Ji, too cheap to haggle, just asking for a donation.”

Lu Qing chimed in, “We’ll buy it! Give us a friend’s discount, Mr. Yu. This tech would make tracking and catching suspects so easy!”

Yu Duqiu smiled. “The R&D cost isn’t much, I could gift it, but I’ve got a condition.”

Ji Lin nodded. “Got it, your safety, right? Don’t worry, Old Peng’s ordered us to work with your plan, but arrests are on us. You can’t act recklessly.”

Yu Duqiu shook his head. “No, I mean the program also tracks Bai Zhao’s face—he’s a white box. Please look out for him today.”

Ji Lin and Lu Qing blinked in unison. “Huh?”

Yu Duqiu frowned. “Why the ghost-seen faces? Is that a weird request?”

Lu Qing hesitated. “Not weird, just… didn’t expect you to care so much about Bai Zhao.”

Everyone knew they were an item, but given Yu Duqiu’s checkered romantic past and his knack for spinning tales, no one was sure how long they’d last or how genuine it was.

Yu Duqiu caught the odd tone in Lu Qing’s words, mulling it over, muttering to himself, “You all think that… No wonder he doesn’t trust me.”

Ji Lin had settled in, getting to work. “Even if you didn’t ask, we’d watch him. He’s key to this operation, and… I’m worried he might play too real.”

Yu Duqiu chuckled. “Think he’ll betray me?”

“Can’t say. He knew the Du family before you. I checked his childhood records—everything before the orphanage is gone, odd. Maybe… he was Du Yuanzhen’s plant in the Pei family. I can’t wrap my head around how a kid took down Pei Xianyong otherwise.”

“I know all that. I ran a background check when he started. It was a privately run orphanage with shoddy record-keeping, long shut down. Lost files are normal.” Yu Duqiu shrugged, done with the topic, tapping the wireless earpiece in his ear. “Call me through this if anything comes up. Make sure your people blend in tonight—manners, behavior, don’t let anyone spot them as cops.”

Ji Lin watched him leave and close the hidden door, sighing. “I believe he’s really fallen now. Such a sharp guy, but love’s made him dumb.”

Lu Qing wagged a finger. “Nope, it’s faith. He believes Bai Zhao won’t betray him, just like you. Everyone thought Officer Mu was dead, but you believed he was alive.”

Ji Lin paused, unable to argue.

“It’s a good thing. Mr. Yu used to trust no god, no ghost, no person. Now he’s got faith, like a real, flesh-and-blood human.” Lu Qing added, “Rather than falling, I’d say he’s breaking free.”

Breaking free… Ji Lin’s mind drifted to that night under the mine.

Even though Yu Duqiu and Bai Zhao kept their voices low, the space was small—he’d caught most of it. Back home, he used his position to pull the old Yu family kidnapping case file.

It wasn’t as breezy as Yu Duqiu made it sound.

He vividly recalled the file noting the victim suffered severe trauma, developing depression, autism, and mild schizophrenia.

Despite the Yu family’s wealth and efforts on treatment, Yu Duqiu had physically recovered, appearing normal on the surface. But his paranoia and emotional barriers showed the psychological scars lingered.

For most, trust and love come naturally. For Yu Duqiu, they went against his instincts.

He seemed to live freely, yet heavy mental chains bound him, trapped in a cage of the past, unable to break through even himself.

If Bai Zhao weren’t more ruthless, obsessive, and reckless, no one else could’ve shattered those chains.

“Guess it’s one thing taming another…” Ji Lin mused.

Lu Qing was about to reply when her peripheral vision caught a bold red box pop up on a monitor window. The programmer, likely under Yu Duqiu’s orders, had added a chess icon above the figure—a crowned Queen.

Lu Qing rubbed her eyes, looked closer, and gasped, “Holy shit, why’s he here now?”