One more time
At 3:27 a.m., Du Siling was jolted awake from his light sleep. A dark shadow flashed past the window, so fast it was almost a hallucination. He silently slid off the bed, enduring the pain from his wound, and moved along the wall to the window.
The street below was deserted, save for a broken streetlamp that flickered on and off. But Du Siling's keen intuition told him it wasn't an illusion. Someone was monitoring the building.
On the bedside table, his father's police badge gleamed coldly in the moonlight. Du Siling picked it up; the icy metallic touch reminded him of when he was seven years old, and his father had first placed the badge in his palm, saying, "This represents justice, son. Always stand on the right side."
What is the right side? Now he's no longer sure.
On the desk lay the evidence Han Beimo had given him—printed copies of documents from Chen Yan's USB drive, and photocopies of Han Beimo's mother Ling Hua's research notes. This evidence was enough to overturn the official records of drug enforcement over the past twenty years, and would implicate a large number of high-ranking police officers.
The price was his career. No one would believe an undercover police officer who collaborated with a gang leader, especially when that leader was Han Beimo.
Another shadow flashed past the window. This time, Du Siling saw it clearly—a man in black quickly disappeared into the shadows of the building opposite. Professional technique; he was likely a police officer.
Du Siling made a quick decision. He put his police badge in the drawer and took out the evidence files, stuffing them into a waterproof bag close to his body. If he had to flee, he had to carry these with him.
The sound of a doorknob turning softly came from behind the door. Du Siling slipped behind the door and pulled a ceramic knife from her boot.
"It's me." Han Beimo's voice came from outside the door, as light as a feather falling to the ground.
Du Siling opened the door and let him in. Han Beimo was dressed in black, holding an ultraviolet flashlight in his hand, and the azalea on his collar glowed eerily in the darkness.
"Someone is monitoring this house," Han Beimo said, getting straight to the point. "At least three people, possibly Chen Yan's men."
"I saw it too." Du Siling nodded. "The location of your safe house should only be known to core members."
"Zhao Kunyang isn't the only mole," Han Beimo said, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "I should have known better."
He walked to the desk and turned on the ultraviolet light to illuminate Ling Hua's research notes. Under the ultraviolet light, a string of tiny numbers appeared along the edges of the paper, like page number markers.
"It was discovered tonight." Han Beimo pointed to the numbers. "It's my mother's habit—to record important information with invisible ink."
Du Siling leaned closer to examine it. The numbers did indeed resemble some kind of code: "Have you tried decoding it?"
"Partial." Han Beimo turned to a page in the middle of his notebook, which contained an anatomical diagram of a rhododendron plant. "Look here."
Under ultraviolet light, a line of small print appeared in the center of the flower: "LC collaborates with DZH; evidence is in S Bank Vault 17."
Du Siling's breath hitched for a moment. DZH—Du Zhihua, his father's full name.
"Your father and my mother..." Han Beimo's voice sounded strange, "...they seem to have a plan."
A very faint metallic clanging sound came from outside the window, as if someone had accidentally bumped into the fire escape. Both of them fell silent simultaneously. Han Beimo turned off the ultraviolet light, plunging the room back into darkness.
"We have to go to that bank," Du Siling whispered.
Han Beimo nodded: "First thing tomorrow morning. But now..." He suddenly moved closer, so close that Du Siling could smell the faint scent of ambergris on him, "We need to put on a show."
What play?
"Argue. Loudly." Han Beimo's lips were almost touching Du Siling's ear, his warm breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Let the people outside hear."
Du Siling immediately understood. He took a deep breath, then shoved Han Beimo away abruptly: "You fucking lied to me!"
"What did I lie to you about?" Han Beimo raised his voice, while making a "continue" gesture.
"Chen Yan isn't the mole at all! You fabricated all of this!" Du Siling deliberately kicked over a chair, making a loud noise. "I'm going back to the police station!"
"You think you can leave?" Han Beimo sneered, silently moving to the window and quietly pulling open a gap in the curtains to observe the outside.
The two continued their heated "argument," and Du Siling, while cursing, noticed Han Beimo's gestures—there were indeed people outside the window, and more than one.
"Enough!" Han Beimo suddenly roared, then lowered his voice, "They've taken the bait. Two are moving towards the main entrance, and the other is staying behind."
Du Siling nodded and continued her performance: "You locked me up here for two weeks just for this false evidence? Inspector Chen is right, you're just as despicable as your father!"
A flicker of genuine pain flashed in Han Beimo's eyes, but he quickly concealed it. He pointed to the bathroom and mouthed "hide inside."
Du Siling pretended to be furious as she stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut, but actually kept her ear pressed against the door. Outside, she heard Han Beimo's footsteps, followed by the loud thud of the front door being kicked open, several muffled thuds, and the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Less than a minute later, everything was quiet.
"Come out." Han Beimo knocked on the door.
Du Siling opened the door and saw two men in black tied to the ground, unconscious. A third man was lying face down in front of the door with a small needle inserted into the back of his neck.
"Sedatives." Han Beimo put away the other syringe. "They'll wake up in an hour, thinking they've been knocked unconscious."
Du Siling checked one of the men's pockets and found a police officer's ID card—the Special Operations Team of the Narcotics Enforcement Group, Chen Yan's direct subordinate team.
"He acted faster than I expected." Han Beimo frowned. "We need to get to the bank early; let's leave now."
Five minutes later, they left the safe house through a secret passage in the basement. The passage was cold and damp, and Du Siling's wounds throbbed with pain. Han Beimo, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped, turned around, and handed him a small bottle.
"Painkillers." Seeing Du Siling hesitate, he added, "Not drugs, I promise."
The pill was indeed just a regular painkiller. After Du Siling swallowed it, Han Beimo suddenly placed his hand on his shoulder and gently pressed the bandage: "It's bleeding again. We'll re-bandage it later."
The touch was brief and restrained, yet it sent a shiver down Du Siling's spine. In the darkness, he couldn't see Han Beimo's expression, only the faint fragrance of the azalea.
At the end of the passageway was an inconspicuous gray sedan. After getting in, Han Beimo took a first-aid kit from the back seat.
"Take off your shirt," he commanded.
Du Siling hesitated for a moment, but still did as instructed. The night air touched her skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine. Han Beimo's technique was professional and gentle; he unwrapped the blood-stained bandage, disinfected it, and re-bandaged it. When his fingers inadvertently brushed against Du Siling's collarbone, both of them visibly paused.
"Alright." Han Beimo's voice was lower than usual. "S Bank is in the city center, a twenty-minute drive away."
The car drove into the deserted streets in the early morning. Du Siling gazed at the streetlights flashing past the window, his mind filled with thoughts. He was cooperating with a gang leader against his superior, which was a serious violation of police regulations. But the thought that his father might have been killed by Chen Yan ignited an unquenchable rage in his chest.
"What are you thinking about?" Han Beimo suddenly asked.
"My father," Du Siling confessed. "If he really was cooperating with your mother... why did he never tell me?"
Han Beimo's fingers tightened on the steering wheel: "Perhaps to protect you. Some things... the less you know, the safer you are."
Du Siling recalled his father's last few years, during which he would often wake up in the middle of the night to check if the doors and windows were locked. At the time, he thought it was just a professional habit, but now he realized it might have been genuine fear.
Bank S is an old building in the city center, its marble columns and bronze doors testifying to its history. Han Beimo parked his car in a nearby alley and made a phone call.
"I need to get into Vault 17...yes, right now...no, just basic services...understand?"
He hung up the phone and turned to Du Siling: "The bank director owes me a favor. But the safe deposit box is rented in your father's name, so your biometrics are required."
"mine?"
"Immediate family members can open it." Han Beimo handed him a photocopy of a bank registration form. "Look."
Indeed, the safe deposit box was registered to Du Zhihua, and the emergency contact was listed as "Du Siling (son)," dated May 10, 2003—three days before Han Beimo's mother died.
"That doesn't make sense," Du Siling frowned. "I was only seven years old then."
"What is your father planning?" Han Beimo asked. "There's only one way to find out."
The bank's side door opened silently, and an elderly man with white hair nodded to them. Without exchanging pleasantries, the man led them directly down to the underground vault area. Vault 17 was a small, private safe deposit box at the very back.
"Fingerprint or iris recognition," the elderly man pointed to the scanner. "The registrant has already pre-registered information about their immediate family members."
Du Siling placed her right thumb on the scanner. A green light illuminated, accompanied by a mechanical female voice: "Identity confirmed, Du Siling, access authorized."
The safe was opened, revealing only a brown paper envelope inside. Du Siling took out the envelope; it felt surprisingly light.
The old man tactfully retreated to the corridor to wait. Du Siling and Han Beimo exchanged a glance, then simultaneously reached out and opened the envelope.
Inside were three things: an old photograph, a letter, and a small USB drive.
The photo shows Du Zhiyuan and Ling Hua together, the background appearing to be a coffee shop. The two don't look like a police officer and an informant; they seem more like... friends. The back of the photo reads: "Evidence secured. Protect the children. 05.09.2003"
The letter was written by Du Zhiyuan, and the handwriting was hasty:
"Ling Hua has decided to testify in person, and I can't persuade her otherwise. Chen Yan is no longer trustworthy, and the entire anti-drug team may have been infiltrated. If this letter is opened, it means the worst has happened. The files on the USB drive require a password; they contain the name of the café where we first met, plus Ling Hua's favorite flower. Protect Si Ling and Xiao Bei."
Du Siling's hands trembled slightly. Xiao Bei. His father knew Han Beimo, and even called him by his nickname.
Han Beimo's expression became extremely complex. He picked up the old-fashioned USB drive: "Password... What's the name of the coffee shop?"
Du Siling examined the background of the photo closely: "There's a menu in the corner...it looks like 'Blue Mountain'?"
"Azalea," Han Beimo said softly, "my mother's favorite flower."
"Blue Mountain Rhododendron." Du Siling typed this phrase, and the USB drive was unlocked.
There was only one encrypted video file inside. Upon opening it, Du Zhiyuan and Ling Hua appeared on the screen. The background appeared to be a safe house, and both men looked serious.
"This is a record from May 12, 2003," Du Zhiyuan said in the video. "I am Du Zhiyuan, a police inspector in the anti-narcotics unit. This is Professor Ling Hua, Han Zhenyue's wife, and also our important informant."
Ling Hua continued, "My husband controls a vast drug network, and he has people inside the police force. Here's the list." She held up a document that clearly listed more than a dozen names, the first of which was Chen Yan.
"Tomorrow night, we will conduct the final transaction at Pier 7," Du Zhiyuan continued. "Ling Hua will testify in person, and I will be responsible for his protection. If the operation fails..." He paused, "This video and all the evidence have been set up to be automatically sent to the prosecutor's office. We must ensure that justice is served."
The video ended. Du Siling and Han Beimo stood silently. The truth from twenty years ago had finally surfaced—Ling Hua and Du Zhiyuan were indeed cooperating, planning to destroy Han Zhenyue's network and the mole within the police force in one fell swoop. But the plan was leaked, leading to their deaths.
"Chen Yan." Han Beimo's voice was as cold as ice. "He not only betrayed my mother, but also framed your father."
Du Siling felt a weight pressing on her chest as she recalled her father's despondency in his final years. Her father knew the truth but couldn't prove it, and could only watch helplessly as the murderer went unpunished.
"We need to make copies of this evidence," Du Siling said. "It's safer to keep the originals here."
Han Beimo nodded, took photos and letters with his phone, and copied the contents of the USB drive. As they left the bank, the sky was already beginning to lighten.
On the way back, Du Siling looked through the photos on his phone. Suddenly, he noticed the date in the corner of the group photo—May 9, 2003.
"Wait a minute." He zoomed in on the photo. "This group photo was taken on my birthday."
Han Beimo suddenly turned to look at him: "Your birthday is May 9th?"
"Yes, what's wrong?"
Han Beimo's expression became extremely complex: "That day... was the day my father brought me back from the orphanage." His voice was low, "The day we parted was your birthday."
This coincidence left both of them speechless. Fate had intertwined them in such a cruel way—one lost a friend on his birthday, and the other was dragged back to hell on the same day.
The car drove onto a secluded side road. Han Beimo suddenly stopped the car and turned to Du Siling: "It's going to be very dangerous. Chen Yan won't just sit and wait to die."
"I know."
"You can back out." Han Beimo looked him straight in the eye. "Take the evidence back to the police station and expose Chen Yan. I won't stop you."
Du Siling shook her head: "The evidence isn't enough. We need a complete plan to ensure Chen Yan can't recover this time."
A fleeting, enigmatic emotion flashed in Han Beimo's eyes: "Why do you believe me? I'm still the head of the gang, Officer Du."
"Because..." Du Siling carefully chose her words, "because the little boy who shared his last piece of candy with me at the orphanage is someone I can trust."
Han Beimo's expression softened instantly. He reached out and touched Du Siling's cheek, the touch as light as a feather: "Thank you for remembering Xiao Bei. Sometimes... I almost forget about him myself."
The touch was fleeting, yet it left a burning memory on Du Siling's skin. The car restarted and drove towards the dawn. Neither of them knew that Chen Yan had awakened and issued an even more deadly order—to capture Han Beimo alive at all costs, because a secret even Du Siling didn't know was hidden on Han Beimo.
Time is like an invisible hourglass; we cannot stop its flow.
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