Love and murder are the same, they will always be exposed. – W. Congreve

Lu Junchi lowered his head and gazed at Su Hui. He was lying on the couch, breathing lightly, completely defenseless in his sleep.

For a moment, he suddenly had the urge to lean down and kiss him, but in the end, he just gazed at him and gently traced the slightly pale cheek with the tip of his finger, deciding to give up.

Perhaps it was just drunken rambling?

Just like compliments between friends.

Someone had said similar things to him before as a joke…

Lu Junchi admitted that in their daily interactions and through each case, his feelings for Su Hui had been growing day by day.

This person held an important place in his life, and he cared about him all the time. Seeing him would bring joy to his mood, while being away from him would cause uneasiness.

He acknowledged that these were signs of love, but he preferred to silently protect him.

The more it came to this point, the more he hesitated.

He kept asking himself, “Are you ready to say goodbye to the past? Are you ready to start a relationship?”

He was a cautious person, treating life and emotions like handling a case. When everything began, he couldn’t help but wish to see all kinds of situations and all possible outcomes.

But life had so many variables, and even the most meticulous person couldn’t prevent all unexpected events and oversights. There would be sadness, joy, happiness, and pain…

Perhaps that was the unique charm of life.

Lu Junchi was accustomed to giving his all, living, working, and loving with seriousness.

This habit, if both parties were willing, could build a strong fortress for love. However, if applied when one wasn’t mature enough, it could become a tremendous pressure and burden.

Now, he had matured a lot, gone past the age of recklessly giving everything for love. He would consider others’ feelings more, and even before starting, he was worried about hurting Su Hui.

He shooed Hemingway’s clingy cat out of Su Hui’s arms, then carried Su Hui to the bed and laid him down. When he returned to the living room, the laptop screen was still on, displaying a pop-up advertisement.

【1231 people near you are browsing this website.】

【Meeting the right person is the beginning of love.】

*Ah the horror of pop-up ads. Anyone who reads Manga on illegal sites must know the trauma caused by these random ads *Young hot single mom looking for a strong man* *Make 10k dollars in a month* *How this drink(gunk juice made me lose 50 kgs in 2 weeks* etc.

The right person.

Lu Junchi closed the dating website ad, but in his mind, a figure without a specific face emerged.

He thought that with the passage of time, that figure would gradually blur, but when he recalled that person, every tiny memory came alive, almost vivid, along with those indescribable emotions that flooded over him.

Lu Junchi first heard Poet’s alias from someone else’s mouth, who said that the poet was the most brilliant one in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

He thought that excessively talented individuals tend to be somewhat arrogant, so when he initially left comments to the poet, seeking advice, he didn’t have high hopes for a response.

But Poet replied to him.

Straight to the point, dissecting and resolving the problem with precision, and finally asking, “Do you understand?”

Unexplainably, he really liked that rhetorical question from the Poet. Even through the screen, he could sense the poet’s spirited demeanor.

Clever, proud, with a touch of sarcasm, that was his initial impression of the poet.

At first, they were like familiar online acquaintances who hadn’t met in person. Poet tirelessly answered his questions, patiently providing explanations. Every time this happened, he secretly marveled at the poet’s analysis in his heart.

Sometimes they would also discuss things unrelated to cases, from major social issues to which breakfast shop was good. If the Poet truly was a poet, he thought Poet should be a romantic poet.

Someone who would passionately extol truth, goodness, and beauty, and at the same time, vehemently criticize darkness, piercing through current affairs and societal flaws.

He was a completely different existence from himself.

He liked this kind of poet, just like how he loved poetry collections in his study when he was a child, and he loved all the pure and carefree beautiful things.

Lu Junchi attempted to fantasize about Poet, envisioning his appearance in his own world. It was the most romantic thing he, a scientifically inclined man with no imagination, had ever done.

Once, they discussed a case related to homosexuality, and when the topic of the percentage of the population being homosexual came up, Poet said, “In fact, the term ‘a minority of people’ can no longer describe homosexuals in life. In China, 1% of adults are homosexual, and in some foreign countries, the percentage even reaches 3% to 8%. On Earth, this constitutes a human group numbering in the billions.”

Yes, he was that one in a billion.

He said to Poet, “Maybe it’s because in our upbringing, we’ve always been taught that this is something wrong. Many people hide and suppress their true nature.”

Poet replied, “Sometimes the more you suppress, the more it backfires.”

What does Poet mean?

Does Poet discriminate against homosexuality?

Lu Junchi had so many questions. He edited and revised but never managed to ask directly, “I also believe that loving someone of the same sex is not deviant desire. Love cannot be confined by anything. Everyone has different preferences when it comes to choosing a partner. Not every boy who reads fairy tales will fall in love with a princess; perhaps they will fall in love with a prince.”

He had forgotten where he had read a similar metaphor.

Poet fell silent for a moment and said, “I only love princes.”

Lu Junchi was taken aback. He heard the sound of breathing on the other end of the phone, along with his own heartbeat.

“… Me too.”

Looking back on that conversation, Lu Junchi felt that if he had been bolder at that time, he could have said, “You’re like my prince.”

He felt like a devout knight, willingly kneeling at Poet’s feet, even though he might just be one of the many admirers and pursuers. He hoped he could be by Poet’s side.

He didn’t know when this feeling had started. He had never liked anyone before, only realizing later that he might have feelings for Poet.

In Poet’s view of love, most people are visual creatures and develop affection based on appearance.

But Lu Junchi felt like an emotional creature, better suited for this kind of unseen infatuation.

At that time, he had never met Poet, but Poet had seen him and even mentioned, “I saw you in the yard earlier. That dark-colored outfit suits your temperament.”

After that, whenever he bought clothes, he always chose dark colors.

One time, they encountered an emergency and had to apprehend a suspect. Poet said to him, “Go for it, my Deputy Lu.” That nickname scratched his heart like cat’s claws.

Fortunately, Lu Junchi had a steadfast character and completed the task calmly and without incident.

Then came the New Year holiday that year, and Lu Junchi rarely took vacations. He had never felt that the New Year holiday could be so long. When he returned to work, he finally added Poet’s private mobile number.

Lu Junchi was still a little apprehensive. “Your identity is confidential. Is it okay to give me your phone number?”

Poet replied, “Keeping my identity confidential is for our personal safety. Will you leak my number to the outside?”

Lu Junchi quickly responded, “Absolutely not.” He wanted to protect Poet and wouldn’t do anything detrimental to him.

Poet said, “You’re not a bad person, so what harm would it do to give you my number? Besides, this mobile number was assigned by the municipal bureau. You can’t trace any information from it.”

On the way back that day, he kept reciting these familiar digits in his mind. They seemed to have a magical power, making his mood uncontrollably joyful.

He really wanted to dial that number, to hear Poet’s voice more, but he was afraid of disturbing him.

When Lu Junchi arrived home, his brother glanced at him and asked, “Brother, did something good happen to you today?”

Only then did he realize that he had been smiling all the way back.

Later on, one day, Poet complained about being pressured by family to find a girlfriend, and Lu Junchi comforted him with a few words.

Poet fell silent for a moment and suddenly said, “Lu Junchi, I think I kind of like you.”

The young, clear voice was direct and straightforward in expressing affection.

At that moment, a bird happened to fly by outside the window, and Lu Junchi held onto his phone, lost in his thoughts.

Poet said, “… Maybe it’s a bit inappropriate. Just pretend you didn’t hear it.”

Lu Junchi was afraid that Poet would hang up, and he nervously listened to his own heartbeat. “No, I like you too.” He paused for a moment and whispered, “I really, really like you.”

He felt that no matter how much Poet liked him, he wanted to love him a little more. But he never dared to say it, fearing that if he did, even their ordinary friendship would be lost. He felt that there was a big gap between them and would rather silently treat him well.

But now, Poet had taken the initiative to bring it up.

During that time, Lu Junchi almost felt like it was the most beautiful memory in his life.

Initially, they never mentioned meeting in person. It was a platonic kind of relationship. They had mutual affection and mostly communicated through phone calls and chats.

Lu Junchi knew well that loving someone wasn’t just about words, especially in today’s society and when they worked together. There were more things they needed to consider, and he would make efforts to lay the groundwork for those things.

Until that business trip when Lu Junchi said to Poet, “I counted the stars you gave me, and there are already ninety-nine.”

Poet said, “Then let’s meet when you come back. I’ll personally give you the last star.”

Lu Junchi replied, “Okay, I’ll finish things on that side as soon as possible.”

During that time, he thought about many things: the location of their first date, what kind of clothes to wear, where they would live in the future, and even how to introduce the other to his family.

But he never imagined that the outcome would be like this in the end.

“I’m sorry, we can’t meet anymore.”

He wanted to find him and clarify things, but shortly after, he never dialed that phone number Poet had given him.

Recalling this, Lu Junchi felt a slight bitterness in his eyes. He closed the webpage, turned off the light, and sat quietly in the darkness.

Suddenly, he thought of a possibility. Could the person he was looking for be Su Hui?

When he was with Su Hui, sometimes his figure seemed to overlap with Poet’s.

If that was his Poet…

He wanted to hold him in his arms and shield him from the world’s flames and bullets.

Author’s note: The countdown begins, and after some consideration, I changed the chapter label. The transition of emotions will be placed at the end of the previous case.

*Love, like murder, always gets exposed. – W. Congreve

TN: I looked for this quote everywhere but couldn’t find it. Not even under quotes by the stated author. If anyone has heard of it before, kindly educate me.

I have dabbled in all the fairy tales children can get, but I don’t love princesses. I only love princes, especially the ones who have been killed or are destined for a tragic fate. – “Confessions of a Mask” by Yukio Mishima.