At 7:50 on Monday morning, a bus pulled to a slow stop at a station fifty meters from the Lang City Police Bureau. A young man stepped out of the back door.
Standing at the stop, he looked toward the main gate. Morning light washed softly over his frame, leaner now after weeks of recovery from his injuries. Back in the Golden Triangle, the harsh UV had darkened his skin to a faint wheat color, but a month in the hospital had paled him back to his original sickly tone.
Xia Hang walked toward the gate step by step. Inside the security booth, the security guard who went by Old Wei squinted at him as he approached.
“Hey, young man. What brings you to the Bureau?”
“Good morning,” Xia Hang said. “I’m here to report for duty.”
Personnel had already given notice, but Old Wei never expected someone that young to show up, so he asked in confusion: “You’re Xia Hang?”
Xia Hang handed over his ID, asking back: “Do I need to register?”
Old Wei took it, checked the name, and nodded: “Yes, today you do. After you finish your onboarding, you won’t need to sign in anymore.”
When the registration was completed, the guard kindly informed him which floor the personnel office was located on. Xia Hang thanked him and stepped into the main administrative building.
As soon as he entered the lobby, he spotted a man in his fifties with a medium build and slightly balding, leading a young assistant out of the elevator.
When the man saw him, his pace slowed half a beat.
“Xia Hang?”
Xia Hang’s gaze flicked, almost imperceptibly, to the man’s shoulder insignia, guessing his rank immediately. “Yes, Chief Yan?”
Yan Zheng smiled, quickening his steps. “Got a haircut?” he asked. “It’s shorter than in your résumé photo. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Xia Hang returned a polite smile. “Yes, it was getting in my eyes, so I trimmed it a little.”
“I was just about to send Xiao Lin to wait for you at the gate,” Chief Yan said. “Didn’t expect you to arrive already. This is Lin Feng from Personnel. He’ll help you with your paperwork.”
“Thank you, Chief. I’ll go with him,” Xia Hang replied.
Lin Feng wasn’t much of a talker, but he was efficient and courteous. With his help, Xia Hang quickly completed the onboarding process and received his office supplies. However, the uniforms didn’t have his size in stock, so he’d need to pick them up in a few days.
Almost as if timed perfectly, Lin Feng’s phone rang just as they finished. He turned to Xia Hang, saying, “Chief Yan asked for you in his office.”
“Got it. Thanks for your help today.”
“No trouble at all. Chief Yan’s office is on the sixth floor. Take the elevator up and turn left, it’s the third door on your right.”
By the time Xia Hang arrived, Yan Zheng was already brewing tea. “Little Xia,” he asked, “have you had breakfast?”
“Yes, Chief.”
Yan Zheng knew the résumé on file wasn’t the real one. Still, he could roughly guess what the real one looked like, but what he couldn’t figure out was why someone like Xia Hang had been assigned to the Lang City Bureau.
Pouring a cup of tea and setting it before him, Chief Yan asked, “You’re from Jiangnan, right? Settling in okay here in Lang City?”
Xia Hang steadied the cup with a hand. “I’m getting used to it.”
“Your former superior said you don’t need help with housing. Where are you staying now?”
“I’ve rented an apartment at Huixian Community.”
Chief Yan nodded. “You’re new in the city. If you need any help, just say so.”
“Not at the moment, but thank you, sir.”
Chief Yan had an eye for people. Of course, he couldn’t have made it that far without one. A short conversation was enough to leave him with a solid impression. For someone who came with a recommendation from above and a request for “special attention”, Xia Hang carried himself with quiet composure. Confident but not arrogant, capable but not showy. Young men like that were rare.
Checking the time, Chief Yan stood, saying, “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the Major Crimes Division.”
But just as those words left his mouth, he noticed that the calm, poised young man beside him hesitated, a mere flicker in the motion of standing, a brief dip of his gaze before he steadied himself again.
“Thank you, Chief,” Xia Hang said evenly.
Yan Zheng suddenly remembered something Han Huaixiao had said the other day, some nonsense about Xia Hang being his ex-boyfriend. That brat had better be joking, he thought. But if it was true… Chief Yan glanced at Xia Hang beside him and felt a headache coming on.
By the time they arrived at the Major Crimes office, the team was mostly slacking off. When cases came in, they worked nonstop, but when things were quiet, they relaxed.
Seeing Yan Zheng, everyone immediately stood, exclaiming: “Chief Yan!”
Yan Zheng’s eyes swept the room as he asked instead: “Where’s your Captain Han?”
“Looking for me?” came a low voice from the doorway.
Xia Hang froze, resisting the instinct to turn, as Chief Yan answered, “Come in. I want to introduce you all. This is your new teammate, Xia Hang.”
Xia Hang let out a quiet breath and kept his tone calm as he greeted everyone: “Hello. I look forward to working with you.”
“Good,” said Chief Yan. “Get familiar with each other. Little Xia, if you need anything, come see me upstairs.” Then he turned to Han Huaixiao, ordering him around: “Give him an overview of the team and his duties.”
After Chief Yan left, Xia Hang finally gathered the nerve to look at Han Huaixiao. “I’ll be in your care, Captain Han.”
Han Huaixiao had been watching him since the moment he walked in. Now that Xia Hang finally met his gaze, he spoke with lazy amusement: “How’d you know I was the captain? You know me?”
Xia Hang couldn’t read his tone. “Chief Yan just said so.”
“Oh?” Han Huaixiao tilted his head slightly. “I thought maybe you knew me from before. What school are you from?”
They had gone to the same university, but were three years apart. They’d first met when Xia Hang was a freshman, and Han Huaixiao returned as a star alumnus to give a commencement speech. That day, a student union senior had roped Xia Hang into helping backstage. In the end, because he looked good, another mischievous senior sister had pushed him onstage to hand Han Huaixiao a bouquet.
So… he was going to pretend not to know him now?
“Gongda University,” Xia Hang replied quietly.
Han Huaixiao smiled faintly. “Your résumé says you were recruited by an international organization before graduation. With that kind of background, you could’ve had your pick of comfortable administrative posts. Why come to frontline work? It’s too busy. Look at them, all single because of it.”
Several single men glared at him, but Han Huaixiao ignored them and went on, “You got a partner?”
“No.”
“Ever had one?”
Xia Hang couldn’t figure out his intention. The steady stream of probing questions wore down his composure, dulling the brief spark of emotion that had flickered when they first met again. So, he looked back at Han Huaixiao and answered calmly: “No.”
Han Huaixiao’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then, without another word, he turned around.
“Ling Yue, show him around.”
“Yes, Captain.”
With a dark look, Han Huaixiao thus disappeared into his office.
Ling Yue leaned toward Xia Hang, noticing his lingering glance at the closed door. “Don’t worry,” he tried to console the recruit. “The Captain’s temper’s rough, but he never yells for no reason.”
Wen Yu also leaned over with a grin. “Yeah, no need to be nervous! Let me introduce everyone,” she started. “I’m Wen Yu, and this guy here’s Ling Yue. The one with the paper origami flower on his desk is Brother Hua, real name Zhang Tianhua, the only married man on the team, with a one-year-old daughter. The one by the window is Brother Mao, Kong Qinmao. And the desk with the crystal ornament belongs to Sister Ling, Xia Ling, with the same surname as yours. She’s on leave today. The desk near the captain’s office door, that one’s yours.”
As Wen Yu spoke, everyone smiled and waved in welcome, and Xia Hang nodded and greeted each of them politely.
Ling Yue, the most outgoing of the bunch, was the first to tease. “How old are you, anyway? You look like you should be calling me Brother Yue.”
“Twenty-nine,” Xia Hang said.
The room fell quiet for a moment.
“You’re twenty-nine?!” someone asked.
He was dressed simply, in a white T-shirt, light blue jeans, and white sneakers. His skin was paler than anyone else’s in the room, smooth enough for a skincare commercial. If Han Huaixiao hadn’t mentioned earlier that he’d been recruited by an international organization before graduation, they might’ve thought he’d just stepped out of college. Even so, no one would’ve guessed he was pushing thirty.
The only thing about Xia Hang that fit his age was his expression. His brows were like distant hills, his eyes deep as a still lake, clear but calm, without the restlessness of youth. And beneath that calm lay something sharper and colder, clearly honed over years.
Ling Yue groaned dramatically. “We’re both front-line detectives, so tell me why a twenty-seven-year-old handsome young man like me looks like a worn-out thirty-seven-year-old, while you, at twenty-nine, look nineteen?!”
Xia Hang looked at him. Ling Yue did look a little older than his age, so he hesitated. “Uh…”
At the right moment, Wen Yu jumped in to save him. “Ignore him, Brother Hang. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
They made the rounds through the various offices, greeting people and getting familiar faces down. By the time they finished, it was already lunchtime, so Wen Yu led him straight to the canteen.
The Major Crimes team was already there, gathered around a long rectangular table. Someone waved when they walked in, and Xia Hang glanced around, but didn’t see Han Huaixiao.
The food at the Bureau’s canteen wasn’t bad, and the team usually ate there. Xia Hang’s appetite still hadn’t fully returned after his recovery, so he didn’t take much food; his tray was a stark contrast to Ling Yue’s, whose rice was piled like a small mountain.
“Xia Hang, you’re eating that little?” Zhang Tianhua asked.
“Not that hungry.”
Ling Yue reached over, grabbed a piece of squid from his own tray, and dropped it on Xia Hang’s plate, commenting: “You’re too thin. Eat more. This celery stir-fried squid’s pretty good, try it.”
“Yeah, sure,” came a voice as a tray slammed down. “You’d call pig feed a delicacy.”
Han Huaixiao sat down across from Xia Hang.
“Captain, didn’t we say we’d send your food up? Why’d you come down?” Ling Yue asked.
“Finished my work,” Han Huaixiao said casually, eyes flicking from Xia Hang’s plate to his slender frame. “What, too many burgers and fries?” he teased. “Can’t handle Chinese food now?”
From the moment Han Huaixiao sat down, Xia Hang lost all sense of taste. “No,” he murmured, but Han Huaixiao’s chopsticks darted out, plucking the squid off his plate and setting a bowl of black chicken soup from his own tray in its place.
Xia Hang looked at the soup, then at Han Huaixiao. He wasn’t a picky eater and could eat almost anything, but he never touched black chicken. When he was six, a relative had teased him, saying the soup had rat meat in it, so he’d vomited on the spot. Even after learning it wasn’t true, the aversion stuck, and Han Huaixiao knew that very well.
And yet, Han Huaixiao raised an eyebrow, asking: “Didn’t you say we should look after you?”
Xia Hang held his gaze for a few seconds, then lowered his eyes. He picked up a piece of the black chicken, placed it in his mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed without a change in expression.
“Thank you, Captain Han. It’s good,” he said evenly.
Eight years could change a lot of things, even the taste of something that once made him sick. He’d long since learned how to eat anything without giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing weakness.
Han Huaixiao’s eyes lingered on him, the weight of that gaze unreadable. Zhang Tianhua, who’d worked with him the longest, glanced between them once, then calmly went back to his meal.
Eating with a crowd always made food taste better, and the canteen’s cooking really wasn’t bad. By the end, Xia Hang had cleared his tray and even finished the soup, quite shocked to realize that it was… actually quite good.
He wasn’t much of a cook, so at least now he wouldn’t have to stress about ordering takeout every night.
After lunch, they returned to the office with enough time to spare. Wen Yu reclined her chair, slipped on an eye mask, and went to sleep. Kong Qinmao put in his earbuds and started gaming on his phone. Ling Yue had wandered off to gossip in another office, and Zhang Tianhua was watching his home security feed, smiling softly as his toddler daughter wobbled through her first steps.
As for Han Huaixiao… he hadn’t come back upstairs, and no one knew where he had gone.
Xia Hang glanced toward the captain’s office, then lay his head down on his desk. He hadn’t meant to actually sleep, but soon drifted off anyway.
He woke to the sound of voices. They were soft, but he was a light sleeper. Blinking groggily, he checked the time, only to see that it was nearly three.
Ling Yue and Wen Yu were talking about getting Han Huaixiao to treat them to dinner after work. When Ling Yue noticed him stir, he called out cheerfully, “Hey, perfect timing! We have no case right now, and it’s your first day, so we’ll do a welcome dinner! Then maybe hit a bar after.”
But less than a few minutes later, the office door opened, and Han Huaixiao walked in, holding a stack of files.
“New case,” he said curtly. “Briefing in the conference room in five minutes.”
Kong Qinmao groaned and threw his neck pillow at Ling Yue, cursing him: “You jinx! How many times have I told you not to say the words ‘no case’ when there’s no case?!”
Zhang Tianhua also made a zipping-lips gesture at him, and Ling Yue winced, slapping his own cheek. “Aaaah, I jinxed it again!”
Xia Hang followed the group to the conference room, still adjusting to the easy camaraderie that buzzed through the team.
Case files were already laid out at every seat. Members from forensics, tech, and trace analysis departments had joined as well. Xia Hang took a seat near the back, picked up the file, and read the four words written on the cover:
Elevator Homicide, Residential Complex.
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