If so, could there be an ambush along the river?

If so, whose body is it?

Li Yiming walked silently with her head down. Having been under surveillance for so long, she hadn't had time to change out of the inner garment concealing the deadly poison. Only a razor blade remained sewn into the cuff, awaiting the day it would see the light of day again.

Seeing that Li Yiming remained silent, Lu Huaizhang assumed she was heartbroken and offered a gentle but firm consolation: "Little Li, don't be too sad. Maybe the fisherman was just mistaken."

Shen Yanzhi sneered, "Secretary Li isn't just saddened, he's grieving for his own kind!"

Li Yiming wasn't actually sad at all. She knew Li Ruhui wasn't dead and was currently recuperating from his leg injury in the organization's hospital. Of course, on her face, Li Yiming squeezed out a few drops of cat urine, which hung subtly in her eyes, putting on a sorrowful appearance.

"Director, I don't know why, but I feel terrible."

The fake Li Yiming has actually developed real feelings for her cheap fiancé?

Lu Huaizhang curled his lip in disdain. He found the childishness of these young people most annoying. What is love? Love is the paper wrapping around a silver dollar, the red string binding a yellow croaker, the fancy medals bestowed by the Party-State as a reward—in short, it's useless!

Lu Huaizhang didn't say these words aloud, but a hint of disdain flashed in his eyes and brows.

The snow fell thicker. The group walked faster and faster. Li Yiming was lost in thought when he bumped into Lu Huaizhang from behind with a loud thud.

We had arrived at the banks of the Rujiang River.

The banks of the Rujiang River were surrounded by men from the Ninth Bureau. A fisherman, dressed in a shabby manner, was being held captive by the bureau's men, his hands clasped behind his back.

A body lay in the snow by the river, covered with a white sheet. Judging by its build, it seemed to resemble Li Ruhui somewhat.

Lu Huaizhang glanced at Li Yiming, half probing and half reassuring: "Little Li, why don't you go and take a look?"

Of course Li Yiming wanted to see it.

Where are the organizers lying in ambush? Is that corpse a real body, or a comrade providing cover? If a gunfight breaks out in a moment, should I immediately jump into the river, or lie prone on the ground and hide behind the corpse?

In any case, identifying the body is the top priority.

Li Yiming walked slowly towards the riverbank. The Ru River was not frozen, and the river wind was as cold as a knife, howling and cutting away all warmth.

The snow was a pale, grayish white, and the Rujiang River, with its resounding murmur, also had a deathly gray hue.

"call--"

The river breeze ruffled the strands of hair under Li Yiming's military cap, and Li Yiming inexplicably remembered that Li Ruhui had once combed her hair with a comb dipped in medicated oil, saying that he had learned it at his university and that it could relieve headaches.

Li Yiming overthinks things and often suffers from headaches.

Looking at the vast river, Li Yiming suddenly realized that regardless of whether Li Ruhui was dead or alive, he would never appear in Ruguan again. In other words, that hasty order last time might have been the last time the two of them would meet in this life.

Thinking of this, Li Yiming suddenly felt a sense of loneliness.

Lu Huaizhang urged, "Little Li?"

Li Yiming gave a self-deprecating smile, a forced twitch at the corner of her mouth, but her face was frozen stiff, and she couldn't manage a laugh. She slowly crouched down, one hand reaching to peel the white sheet from the corpse, the other to feel for the razor blade hidden in her sleeve…

The white cloth was lifted.

Li Yiming was stunned.

A pale gray face was visible beneath the white cloth, lifeless, its grim color mirroring the surface of the Rujiang River.

The face was so ashen and grotesque that it was almost monstrous, but Li Yiming recognized it at a glance—

That was Li Ruhui's face.

How did this person end up lying here?

How could this person have died?

No, he shouldn't be here!

Suddenly, Li Yiming, as if possessed, abruptly ripped up the entire white cloth, which swung in the air with a "whoosh," resembling a giant banner summoning souls.

Li Ruhui's complete body was revealed. He had several penetrating gunshot wounds, and he was soaking wet, like a water ghost crawling out of the water to claim a life. His clothes, soaked from lying in the snow for too long, were already on the verge of freezing.

The coroner whispered to Lu Huaizhang, "It was a penetrating wound to the back. He must have been trying to escape when he was discovered, shot in the back, and then thrown into the river..."

Li Yiming heard the coroner's voice but acted as if he hadn't heard it. He then started tearing at Li Ruhui's clothes, trying to hear his heartbeat.

With Li Ruhui's cause of death confirmed and Li Yiming cleared of suspicion, Lu Huaizhang once again became Li Yiming's good boss. He compassionately walked to Li Yiming's side and tried to help him up: "Get up, Xiao Li... please accept my condolences."

Li Yiming slapped Lu Huaizhang's hand away!

Lu Huaizhang had no choice but to shout, "He's already dead!"

Li Yiming froze.

The snow fell on Li Ruhui, melting away on his wet clothes. The snow on his face, however, lingered, as if revealing a cruel truth.

As dusk approached, a bleak twilight was about to fall. The sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky a cold, bluish-green.

Suddenly, an image flashed through Li Yiming's mind of a certain evening when he wanted to give a self-important high-achieving student a hard time, so he casually taught him how to make a mechanism.

That kind of organization was used for framing people, completely contrary to the formal espionage knowledge that Li Ruhui had learned. At the time, Li Ruhui seemed quite disdainful, as if he didn't take it to heart at all. Li Yiming didn't say anything, but he secretly made a mental note of this bookworm.

In a flash, Li Yiming understood everything.

Just moments ago, in front of Lu Huaizhang, Li Yiming could squeeze out eighteen different kinds of tears. But when the identity of the deceased was confirmed, Li Yiming did not shed a tear.

A pair of hands, as if possessing their own will, tightly embraced Li Ruhui's head. She held her warrior, completely disregarding how cold and wet the river water was, and how raging the snow was; the former soaked her clothes, and the latter dampened her cheeks.

The onlookers watched this scene in silence. In the long silence, Li Ruhui suddenly opened his eyes.

He struggled to sit up, grabbed Li Yiming's collar, and whispered in her ear in a barely audible voice:

"When I took that book yesterday, I actually wanted to tell you... I found your name in the book."

After saying this, Li Ruhui closed his eyes again, leaving Li Yiming standing there, stunned, facing the seemingly endless falling snow.

The sky and earth are vast and boundless.

The heavy snow fell in abundance, disappearing into the ever-flowing river.