BL Ch47

As Ji Lin stepped into the conference room, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Yu Duqiu, his striking silver hair filling his entire vision. For some reason, Yu Duqiu was slightly out of breath. “Captain Ji… let me sit in on this meeting.”

Ji Lin brushed off his hand with disdain. “Didn’t your butler tell you? Stop meddling in police affairs. This is an internal meeting—Hey! What are you doing? You can’t go in!”

But Yu Duqiu ignored him, slipping past Ji Lin like a nimble fish and entering the room before him, too quick to catch.

Fuming, Ji Lin rushed in after him, shouting, “Hey!” But the sound of his own voice echoed back, making him suddenly realize something was off.

The conference room felt eerily empty.

On the left side of the table sat Feng Jinmin, who had returned, along with two detectives from the city bureau. On the right side, only Peng Deyu and another detective in his thirties were seated. Compared to the crowded task force meeting earlier, the room now seemed deserted.

Ji Lin, puzzled, asked, “Xu Ge, aren’t you handling another case? Why are you at our task force meeting?”

Xu Sheng, who was from the Major Crimes Unit at the Xinjing branch, had been busy around the clock. He had just come out of an interrogation room when he was told to attend this meeting, leaving him equally confused. “I don’t know. Director Peng called me here. I was wondering the same thing; isn’t this case being handled by your third team?”

“The situation has changed, and we need to adjust,” Peng Deyu said, his voice unusually grave.

Realizing the urgency, Ji Lin pushed aside his irritation with a certain uninvited guest. After greeting the two leaders, he quickly took a seat next to Peng Deyu, pulling out his notebook and pen, ready to take notes on the new developments.

Instead of starting the meeting right away, Peng Deyu turned to Yu Duqiu. “Mr. Yu, could you step out?”

Yu Duqiu, sitting in the spectator’s seat, didn’t budge. “Director Peng, as a potential victim, I think I have the right to know what’s happening with the case so I can prepare accordingly and minimize risks. Also, I have a feeling Captain Ji is in trouble. I’d love to see how this plays out—so, permission to stay?”

Ji Lin glared at him. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

“Actually, he’s right.” Feng Jinmin, who had been silently brooding, suddenly spoke, his expression more serious than at the last meeting. “Ji Lin, let me ask you—answer truthfully—why are you so invested in Mu Hao’s case?”

Ji Lin, caught completely off guard by the sudden turn towards himself, froze for a good three seconds. Though the question seemed absurd, he still answered, “Because he’s my old classmate. Back in the police academy, he helped me out a lot. Now that he’s missing, I want to catch the criminal responsible, that’s all…”

Yu Duqiu clicked his tongue softly.

It would’ve been better if he’d left off those last three words.

Including them made it seem like a clarification—a clarification that hinted at guilt.

Sure enough, suspicion clouded Feng Jinmin’s face. “You two were that close? Funny, he never mentioned you to me.”

“I’m the one who’s grateful to him,” Ji Lin said, sitting up straight, as if trying to prove something. “We haven’t really kept in touch after graduation. He’s been busy. I messaged him a few times to grab a meal, but he was always tied up with cases, so I stopped bothering him. He probably doesn’t even remember me, so it makes sense he never brought me up.”

Feng Jinmin scoffed, unconvinced. “So, you haven’t seen him in a long time?”

Ji Lin nodded. “Yes.”

“When was the last time you saw him? Where?”

“More than a year ago, I saw him from a distance when I went to the city bureau for some paperwork.”

“Is that so? Think carefully.”

Ji Lin swallowed hard, unable to hold back any longer. “Captain Feng, what exactly are you getting at? It feels like… you’re interrogating me like a suspect.”

Feng Jinmin waved a hand, and one of the detectives immediately handed over a stack of photos. Feng Jinmin slammed them onto the table, scattering them across its surface. One photo slid right in front of Ji Lin. He glanced down, and his face turned ashen.

“Last night, the Changhe branch received an anonymous tip. The caller reported seeing a suspicious individual loitering near Mu Hao’s home on the night of October 25th last year—two days before the Rain Alley case. The Changhe branch quickly pulled surveillance footage from nearby stores, and after an exhaustive search, they found one shop that still had recordings from that time. They sent me these photos just now. Ji Lin, are you going to tell me this isn’t you?”

Feng Jinmin’s sudden accusation carried a surge of anger that sent a jolt through everyone in the room, the echoes of his words lingering in the air.

Ji Lin, completely blindsided, his pupils trembling, stammered, “Captain Feng, I was at Mu Hao’s house that day because it was his birthday. I just wanted to drop off a gift…”

“If that’s the case, why did you hide when you saw Mu Hao and Wu Min? Why did you wait until they went inside before leaving? Is that how a normal person delivers a gift?”

Ji Lin replied weakly, “I… I didn’t want to disturb them…”

A feeble excuse.

Even Peng Deyu, who had been silent for a long time, sighed deeply, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes, as if unwilling to face the situation. “And what about the early hours of July 8th, when you went alone to Yiqing Bar? What were you doing there?”

Ji Lin stiffened, completely at a loss for words.

Xu Sheng, who had been watching in stunned silence, now understood the situation but didn’t dare to interrupt.

Yu Duqiu, legs crossed, continued to watch the drama unfold, deep in thought.

“Neither Feng nor I want to suspect you,” Peng Deyu said, his voice now hoarse and weary, as though he had aged a decade in moments, “but we have no choice. If you’re the mastermind behind this, everything suddenly makes sense: You were staking out Mu Hao’s home, then killed him and Wu Min, and later Bai Zhiming.”

“As for Yu Wencheng, once he showed signs of illness and sought medical help, LSD would’ve been found in his system. You could have taken advantage of your role in the investigation to secretly remove the evidence from his room—his medicine bottles. But when he unexpectedly fell to his death, the scene was sealed off, preventing you from taking the bottles, so you flushed the remaining pills and left the empty bottle to throw off suspicion.”

“Then you approached Peizhuo under the guise of investigating, manipulating him to incite Du Lingya to poison Yu Duqiu. You arranged the kidnapping attempt in the U.S., blaming it on the Pei family, and requested permission from me to search the Pei house, planning to hide your weapon there and frame them.”

“Finally, there’s the Huang Hanxiang incident. You knew Yu Duqiu’s movements, so you were the first to know when he went to the company. It’s possible that Pei Ming wasn’t tipped off by Huang Hanxiang, but by you, which is why no evidence of their contact has been found. You could have set up the meeting location during your interrogation, and when Huang Hanxiang left the bar, you had someone grab him in a surveillance blind spot, leading to his murder. Only someone with a deep understanding of surveillance blind spots could pull that off.”

“After he died, you took his photo and, under the guise of inspecting equipment at Pingzhong, planted the photo in the backstage changing room. You moved the control room socket and created marks on the door lock to make it look like the killer entered before your inspection, diverting suspicion from yourself.”

“There are still gaps in the evidence, but right now, you’re a prime suspect. After discussing it with Captain Feng, we wanted to hear your explanation. Initially, we thought the chance of you being involved was slim, but you lied… and that’s hard for us to overlook.”

Peng Deyu’s voice cracked after delivering this long speech. His thermos sat in front of him, but he had no mind to drink from it. He spoke slowly, his throat dry: “If you think you’re innocent, then tell us everything clearly—why were you sneaking around Mu Hao’s house on the 25th? And why did you go to Yiqing Bar on the 8th, wearing a mask and hat, thinking no one would recognize you? You only own a few civilian clothes, and you rotate them every week.”

When he finished, silence fell over the room.

Ji Lin’s tanned skin overlapped with his drained, pale face, forming an unpleasant ashen gray hue, like a cold, unblinking corpse.

“…What reason would I have to kill Mu Hao?” he muttered. “It’s ridiculous… How could I kill Mu Hao?”

Peng Deyu responded, “You’ve been handling cases for years, you should know that sometimes, there doesn’t need to be a reason for murder. Besides… I heard that back at the police academy, Mu Hao was always ranked first, and you could never surpass him. When the city bureau came to recruit, you were regretfully passed over, but Mu Hao got in.”

The implication was clear—jealousy can lead people down dark paths.

However, Ji Lin didn’t seem to understand the underlying meaning, as if the word “jealousy” didn’t exist in his vocabulary. His pale lips whispered incredulously, “So what if he was first? He was Mu-ge… He was supposed to be first…”

“Bang!” Feng Jinmin slammed his hand on the table. “Stop dodging the question. Answer us!”

Ji Lin flinched at the sound, his mind seemingly frozen. He stared blankly at Feng Jinmin, who was livid with anger, unable to utter a word.

He couldn’t lie to his superiors, but he also couldn’t tell the truth.

“Captain Ji, it’s come to this, and you’re still not speaking?” Yu Duqiu suddenly interjected.

Ji Lin slowly clenched his fists. “…Shut up.”

Ignoring him, Yu Duqiu continued, “I really feel for you. Since you can’t bring yourself to say it, I’ll say it for you. You actually—”

“Yu Duqiu!” Ji Lin shot up from his chair, the legs scraping harshly against the wooden floor, producing a screeching wail. His reddened eyes fiercely glared at the man, who seemed intent on stirring trouble. Like a cornered animal, Ji Lin tried to appear tough and intimidating. “Mu-ge might still be alive… Stop spewing nonsense.”

Yu Duqiu looked at him with pity. “You’re the only one who still believes he might be alive. You’re the only one who still cares about his future. His parents have already bought a burial plot for him, did you know?”

“I know. I don’t need you to tell me,” Ji Lin gritted his teeth. “And I don’t need you meddling in my affairs.”

Yu Duqiu stared at him for a while, then sighed deeply. “I thought Mu Hao was foolish enough, but I didn’t expect someone to be even more foolish.”

At that moment, his phone buzzed. Yu Duqiu glanced at it and then stood up. “Apologies, I tend to be rebellious. When people ask for my help, I may not oblige, but when they don’t want my help, I insist on making them bow their heads, abandon their useless pride, and thank me wholeheartedly.”

Feng Jinmin, already fuming, laughed angrily at his words. “Mr. Yu, you’ve got some nerve saying that in front of us. If you can’t provide evidence to clear him, I don’t care whose grandson you are or how much money you have—we can detain you for obstructing an investigation.”

Yu Duqiu nonchalantly played with his phone, his fingers rapidly tapping the screen, as if playing a game.

Feng Jinmin, seeing his careless attitude, became even more enraged. “Did you hear me or not—”

Just then, the dormant black screen at the front of the meeting room suddenly blinked to life.

Everyone turned their heads, seeing that a video player had automatically started playing footage. The screen displayed a dimly lit alleyway, faintly illuminated by a streetlight. Three half-height trash bins lined one side.

Next to the trash bins, something moved—a person sitting there.

“Apologies for the small system hack. I’ll have someone reinstall a more secure one for you later,” Yu Duqiu said casually. He tapped his phone again, and the camera angle changed, revealing the squatting person’s face clearly. “After learning about Mu Hao’s incident, I not only sent people to retrieve the watch but also installed hidden cameras in the alley. Three in total, all with night vision.”

Peng Deyu, shocked, exclaimed, “This is outrageous! You installed surveillance cameras in a public area without authorization from the police? That’s an invasion of privacy!”

“That’s why I never told you,” Yu Duqiu chuckled. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it unless absolutely necessary. But given the current situation, I had no choice but to reveal it.”

No one except Ji Lin understood his metaphor, but Yu Duqiu didn’t bother to explain. He walked over to the screen and continued his presentation. “You’re all curious why Captain Ji was at Yi Qing Bar that night? Simple. Because he goes there almost every week, usually around midnight. If it rains… the probability goes up to one hundred percent.”

In the surveillance footage, a fine misty rain fell—so fine it was barely visible, only detectable through the light’s reflection, like a thin veil draped over the lens in a mournful tribute.

The young man sitting by the trash bins wasn’t using an umbrella. He sat on a plastic bag, quiet and alert in the grimy, rain-soaked alley, staring blankly at the gray-black ground in front of him, lost in thought.

After a long, cold stare, he slowly lowered his head, burying it deep in his knees.

Everyone in the room was drawn to the strange scene on the screen. At that moment, Ji Lin’s phone buzzed twice in his pocket. He absentmindedly pulled it out and saw the messages from Yu Duqiu:

[My poor bishop, are you there mourning his ghost?]

[It rained the night he was hurt, didn’t it? You haven’t been able to sleep on rainy nights since, have you?]