Let's go
7:55. Du Siling stood in front of the hidden monitoring screen, watching the live feed at the entrance of the safe house. Han Beiming was already waiting at the door, dressed in a black suit, the azalea on his collar trembling slightly in the evening breeze. He looked frighteningly calm, his right hand unconsciously turning the watch on his left wrist—Du Siling had noticed this was a small gesture Han Beiming made when extremely nervous.
A black sedan without police insignia slowly drove into the frame. The door opened, and Chen Yan stepped out, also dressed in a suit, the scar on his face appearing particularly menacing under the porch light. Du Siling's stomach clenched. Three months ago, this was the same man who patted him on the shoulder and said, "After this mission, your father will be proud of you."
Now, however, he was unsure whether Chen Yan had come to save him or to kill him.
"Inspector Chen," Han Beimo's voice came clearly through the hidden microphone, "I didn't expect you to come in person."
Chen Yan gave a forced smile: "Mr. Han, you're too kind. One of my junior officers has been missing for two weeks. He was last seen at one of your nightclubs."
"Oh?" Han Beimo stepped aside to let Chen Yan into the room. "What's your name? Perhaps my people have seen it."
"Du Siling. Narcotics Division."
Du Siling stared intently at the screen. Chen Yan's gaze swept across every corner of the room like a knife, as if he could see right through the walls.
"No recollection." Han Beimo poured a glass of whiskey and pushed it towards Chen Yan. "But the police have been cracking down hard lately; several of my establishments have been raided. Maybe your junior officer took the opportunity to go on vacation?"
Chen Yan didn't touch the glass of wine: "Boss Han, let's not beat around the bush. Du Siling is my best undercover agent; he wouldn't disappear without a trace." He leaned forward. "Hand him over, and name your terms."
Han Beimo suddenly laughed: "Inspector Chen cares so much about his subordinates? It's truly touching." He took a sip of his drink. "However, I don't actually have the person you're looking for here. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless you tell me what you and Han Zhenyue talked about in the Pier 7 warehouse on the evening of May 13, 2003."
Du Siling held her breath in front of the screen. This was a dangerous test, aimed directly at the core.
Chen Yan's expression froze instantly. His hand slowly moved to his waist—where a gun was definitely tucked. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Ling Hua." Han Beimo uttered the name softly, like dropping a bomb, "My mother. Her last phone call before she died was to you, Inspector Chen."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Du Siling saw Chen Yan's Adam's apple bob up and down, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Your mother..." Chen Yan's voice became hoarse, "...she was a good person, but too naive. Some things aren't simply black and white."
Han Beimo's fingers tightened on the wine glass, his knuckles turning white: "For example, police officers accepting bribes from drug dealers? For example, betraying whistleblowers?"
"That was a necessary compromise!" Chen Yan suddenly raised his voice. "What do you think drug enforcement relies on? Idealism? Your father controls half the province's drug network; without an inside contact, we wouldn't even get a foot in the door!"
Du Siling felt a wave of dizziness. Chen Yan's words were practically an admission of collusion with Han Beimo's father. Even more frightening was the implication that the corruption within the police force might extend far beyond a single individual.
"So Ling Hua must die?" Han Bei Mo's voice was so low it was almost inaudible.
Chen Yan suddenly stood up: "I didn't kill her! It was Han Zhenyue himself—" He suddenly stopped, realizing he had let something slip.
In the monitoring room, Du Siling's hands unconsciously clenched into fists. Chen Yan knew Han Beimo's mother would be killed, yet he did nothing to stop it. This was tantamount to conspiracy.
"Interesting." Han Beimo suddenly relaxed, leaning back on the sofa. "You know, Inspector Chen, the soundproofing in this room is exceptionally good."
He pressed a button on his phone, and the camera hidden inside the vase rotated slightly, pointing at Chen Yan.
"What do you mean?" Chen Yan asked warily.
"So, what you just said was recorded," Han Beimo smiled, "including admitting to cooperating with drug dealers and having prior knowledge of my mother's death."
Chen Yan's face turned deathly pale. His hand moved to his waist again, but Han Beimo was faster—a silver pistol was already pointed at Chen Yan's chest.
"Don't do anything foolish, Inspector Chen. My men are out there, where are yours?"
Du Siling knew it was time to act. No matter what crime Chen Yan had committed, he was still a policeman and couldn't die at Han Beimo's hands. He endured the pain from his wounds, quietly pushed open the hidden door, and moved along the corridor towards the living room.
"What do you want?" Chen Yan asked through gritted teeth.
"The truth," Han Beimo said, "What exactly happened that night? Why did Du Zhiyuan shoot and kill my father?"
Du Siling stopped at the corner of the corridor, his heart pounding. This was also the question he wanted to know.
Chen Yan let out a cold laugh: "You think your father is innocent? Han Zhenyue discovered Ling Hua was going to report him and decided to deal with this 'trouble' himself. But he didn't know that Ling Hua had already handed over the evidence to Du Zhiyuan through me."
"What evidence?" Han Beimo pressed.
"Transaction records. A list of police moles." Chen Yan's eyes turned sinister. "Including me."
Du Siling gasped. Her father knew Chen Yan was the mole? Then why...?
"Du Zhiyuan is stubborn," Chen Yan continued, as if understanding Du Siling's thoughts. "He insisted on reporting through the proper channels. But your father had arranged an ambush at the dock. By the time Du Zhiyuan realized he'd been caught, it was too late."
"So he killed my father," Han Beimo concluded.
"Self-defense," Chen Yan corrected, "but the matter isn't over. Du Zhiyuan later discovered the evidence was missing and began to suspect someone inside was sabotaging things. I had to... take some action."
Du Siling's blood froze instantly. "Take care of it"—her father was transferred from the anti-drug squad to the traffic police department, and from then on, he never recovered. Five years ago, he died in an "accidental" car accident. Now, thinking back, that car accident seemed too coincidental.
Anger surged within him like a tidal wave. Du Siling was about to rush out when Han Beimo's next words froze him in place.
Did you know that Du Siling is Du Zhiyuan's son?
Chen Yan's expression turned ferocious: "Of course I know. I specifically chose him to infiltrate the area because I wanted to see Han Zhenyue's son and Du Zhiyuan's son kill each other." He grinned maliciously, "Unfortunately, he's too much like his father—too upright, too stubborn."
Du Siling felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. It turned out that she had been a pawn from the very beginning, a discarded piece in Chen Yan's game of revenge.
"Interestingly," Han Beimo said slowly, "Officer Du is currently in this house."
Chen Yan turned his head sharply and saw Du Siling emerge from the shadows of the corridor. Their eyes met, and Du Siling saw pure killing intent in Chen Yan's eyes.
"You..." Chen Yan's hand quickly reached for his waist.
Everything happened too fast. Han Beimo took a step forward and slammed the butt of his gun heavily into the back of Chen Yan's neck. Chen Yan collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Du Siling stood there, breathing rapidly. Han Beimo looked up at him, the gun still in his hand.
"You heard everything?" Han Beimo asked.
Du Siling nodded, her throat too dry to speak.
Han Beimo kicked the unconscious Chen Yan: "He lied. About the part about my father."
How can you be so sure?
"Because I saw it with my own eyes." Han Beimo's voice suddenly became unusually tired. "That night, I secretly followed my mother to the dock. I saw her meet with Chen Yan and hand over something. Then Chen Yan left, and my father's men appeared..."
He paused, his gaze drifting into the distance: "My mother ran towards the warehouse, and I followed her. Then I heard gunshots... When I arrived, I saw Officer Du Zhiyuan holding a gun, and my father lying on the ground. But my father also had a gun in his hand, the muzzle still smoking. In the corner... my mother lay in a pool of blood."
Du Siling felt a tightness in her chest. This version was completely different from what Chen Yan had said.
"Your father... shot and killed your mother?"
Han Beimo shook his head: "I'm not sure. Everything happened too fast. But one thing I'm very clear about—my father and Chen Yan had been in cahoots for a long time. Chen Yan betrayed my mother, just like he betrayed your father."
Du Siling walked towards the unconscious Chen Yan and pulled the police badge from his inner pocket. The metal gleamed coldly under the light; once a symbol of justice, it now looked so ironic.
"We need evidence," Du Siling said, "not just testimonies."
Han Beimo took a folder from the bookshelf: "My mother's research notes. The last page mentions 'LC'—Ling Chen, the initials of Chen Yan's name. She recorded her contacts with him and the contents of the evidence she gave him."
Du Siling turned to the last page and indeed saw that passage. But that alone was not enough to convict him.
"His USB drive," Du Siling suddenly realized. "High-ranking police officers always carry encrypted USB drives."
They found the black USB drive in Chen Yan's pocket. After plugging it into the computer, it prompted for a password.
"Try his badge number," Han Beimo suggested.
Du Siling entered Chen Yan's six-digit police number, but the password was incorrect.
Birthday? Date of joining the company?
None of them are correct. Du Siling pondered for a moment and entered 20030513—the date of Han Beimo's mother's death.
The USB drive has been unlocked.
Inside were dozens of encrypted folders, one of which was named "Project Z". Upon opening it, Du Siling and Han Beimo simultaneously held their breath—it was a detailed money laundering record spanning twenty years and amounting to hundreds of millions. The last transaction record showed that two weeks prior, a sum of two million had been transferred to Zhao Kunyang's overseas account.
"The date..." Du Siling murmured, "exactly three days before I was sent to infiltrate."
Han Beimo sneered, "Now do you know why Zhao Kunyang wanted to kill me so much? Chen Yan bribed him."
Du Siling continued browsing and found a subfolder named "Du Zhiyuan". Upon opening it, his blood froze again—it contained detailed reports on the surveillance of his father, as well as... the pre-planning of that "accidental car accident".
"You beast!" Du Siling slammed his fist on the table, his wound bursting open from the violent movement, blood seeping through the bandage.
Han Beimo immediately grabbed the first-aid kit, skillfully unwrapped the blood-stained bandage, and re-bandaged it. His fingers were warm and steady, and his movements were so gentle that they didn't seem like those of a gang leader.
"We have to handle this evidence carefully," Han Beimo said while bandaging his wound. "Chen Yan has deep roots in the police force."
Du Siling looked up at him: "'Us'?"
Han Beimo paused for a moment: "Unless you intend to arrest me."
The two stared at each other, an inexplicable tension filling the air. Du Siling looked away first.
"I need time to think," he admitted. "This information... has overturned so many things."
Han Beimo nodded in understanding. He took out his phone and sent a message. A few minutes later, two men in black came in and dragged away the unconscious Chen Yan.
"He won't remember tonight's conversation," Han Beimo said. "My men will dump him near the police station, making it look like he'd been assaulted."
Du Siling did not object. It was too early to expose Chen Yan; they needed more evidence.
"That orphanage..." Du Siling suddenly asked, "Sunshine Home. We've met there, haven't we?"
Han Beimo's expression softened: "You remembered?"
"I only remember fragments. A little boy, they called him Xiao Bei..."
"That was the nickname my mother gave me," Han Beimo said softly. "I stayed there for three months until my father sent someone to find me." He paused. "Back then, you always shared your bread with me because I told you I liked seeing you smile."
This detail struck Du Siling like a bolt of lightning. He suddenly remembered—the dark-eyed boy who always hid in the corner, the "new friend" he had sworn to protect. The little boy in his memory overlapped with Han Beimo before him, causing his heart to clench.
"And then?" Du Siling asked, "After you went back..."
"Hell," Han Beimo replied curtly, "but I survived, so that one day I could uncover the truth behind my mother's death." He looked at Du Siling, "Now you know why I recognized you at first glance. Your eyes... are the same as they were back then."
Du Siling didn't know how to respond. Fate had so cruelly rewoven them together—the son of a policeman, the son of a drug dealer, who should have been mortal enemies, were now bound together by a brief childhood friendship and a shared adult goal.
"I need to rest," Du Siling finally said, exhausted by the combined effects of his injuries and emotional distress.
Han Beimo nodded and helped him stand up. As they walked side by side toward the bedroom, Du Siling unconsciously leaned toward Han Beimo, their arms lightly touching, just like when they were children supporting each other in the dark corridors of the orphanage.
That night, Du Siling dreamed of a field of azaleas. Two little boys stood among the flowers, holding hands, their smiles as bright as the sun.
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