Then Xie Lang changed the topic. “Who do you think the attacker was? Could it really be the ghost of that girl who was said to have died unjustly, coming back for revenge?”

“After the founding of the country, no more monsters and spirits are allowed. There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Jiang Ling answered seriously. “Comrade Xie Lang, you’re a public security officer. You’re supposed to be a staunch atheist. How can you believe in idle gossip like that? If you ask me, Xiao Bing did a lot of terrible things. He probably offended someone, and that person came to settle the score.”

Jiang Ling began analyzing the situation seriously. “Wait, maybe that’s not quite right either. We heard from one of the guys in the Steel Factory’s Security Section that the attackers were a man and a woman, apparently siblings. If it were a case of revenge, it wouldn’t make sense to bring your younger sister along. That doesn’t really add up.”

Seeing how methodically Jiang Ling was breaking it down, Xie Lang’s suspicions were already halfway gone.

At the same time, he felt a pang of guilt for being so paranoid.

Just because Jiang Ling and Brother Song had happened to pass by that area on the same night, he had actually suspected them. That was really heartless of him.

He should’ve remembered—they were only there at that time because they were concerned about his safety.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ling continued analyzing without pause. “In normal situations, someone wouldn’t bring their younger sister along for something like revenge. But what if it was the older brother of a girl Xiao Bing bullied in the past? He came to take revenge and brought his sister along so she could see Xiao Bing’s miserable state for herself—to help her overcome the trauma.”

Xie Lang rubbed his chin in thought. Jiang Ling’s reasoning seemed to form a logically closed loop.

“Alright, if I get the chance, I’ll report it to my mentor.”

“If it wasn’t for that reason, I really can’t imagine why an older brother would bring his sister along for a fight. It just doesn’t make sense.” Jiang Ling then offered another theory. “What if they’re not biological siblings? What if they’re sworn siblings from the streets—like a godbrother and godsister kind of situation?”

Xie Lang immediately and firmly rejected the idea. “Absolutely impossible. According to my mentor, Xiao Bing stated with full confidence and righteous conviction that they were siblings. He didn’t make a mistake.”

His mentor, Officer Hong, was a well-known figure in Beicheng’s criminal investigation circles. Otherwise, Xie Lang’s father would never have entrusted his only son to him for training.

Technically speaking, since it wasn’t a major or high-priority case, and it didn’t fall within their substation’s jurisdiction, Officer Hong shouldn’t have been involved at all.

But the incident had stirred up the entire city—rumors of ghostly revenge by a wronged girl, plus the possible involvement of power and money suppressing justice. The implications were too wide-reaching. If the real truth behind the case could be uncovered, it would directly affect public trust in the public security force.

So Officer Hong, Xie Lang’s mentor, had also gotten involved in the case.

Xie Lang, being naturally curious, couldn’t resist digging into such a sensational case once his mentor was involved. As a result, he knew more internal details than most of his colleagues.

Talking about it now, he seemed even more certain of what he was saying.

Xie Lang said, “My mentor said that during questioning, they asked more than once whether those two were really biological siblings. But Xiao Bing was absolutely adamant—they were. The guy who beat him had even been in lockup before.”

“With a range to work within, it’s a lot easier to investigate. Better than looking for a needle in a haystack.”

That was how Xie Lang saw it too. “But right now, my mentor and I are mainly busy with the mysterious death of that female worker from the cotton mill. When it comes to a homicide case, everything else has to take a back seat.”

Jiang Ling asked him, “Then what about the burglary at our daily chemical factory?”

Xie Lang shook his head. “There haven’t been any leads, and it’s not exactly a major case. It might be temporarily shelved.”

Jiang Ling gave a quiet “oh.” She figured that “temporary” probably meant “permanent.”

The factory couldn’t keep the scene preserved forever. The warehouse still needed to store raw materials and finished goods. Once the public security stopped investigating, the factory would likely clean it out soon, and all traces left by the suspect would be wiped away.

“Then let’s hope you solve the other case soon so you’ll have time to help us root out the pests hiding among the people.”

Xie Lang grinned, flashing a row of bright white teeth. “I’ll take that as a blessing.”

Jiang Ling and Song Guanshu walked him to the gate, and Xie Lang hopped onto his bicycle.

Just before leaving, Xie Lang suddenly remembered something. “Oh right, you’ve probably heard—Xiao Jun’s family has some influence. They pulled strings and got him released on medical parole. Seems like he’s already back home recovering.”

“When you go out, just be a bit more cautious,” he added, glancing at the three-story building where the Steel Factory’s leadership lived, then gave a small smile. “After all, that guy’s been running wild and bullying people for years. If he dares to mess with you, come find me. I refuse to believe there’s no justice left in this world.”

Coming from Xie Lang, those words carried a certain weight. Xiao Jun’s uncle was the director of the Grain Bureau, but Xie Lang’s own father held a position just as high.

The couple saw Xie Lang off with smiles, but the moment they turned back, the smiles vanished from their faces.

Song Guanshu said, “He suspects you.”

Jiang Ling locked both doors behind them and hesitated. “No way… does he really?”

In the original story, Xie Lang wasn’t the scheming type. He was straightforward and impulsive, someone who did things with a big-hearted bluntness. If he suspected them, he would either ask outright or report it directly to his superiors.

Song Guanshu seemed to read her thoughts. “Didn’t he already ask you?”

Jiang Ling touched her chin in thought. “Now that you mention it… I suppose he kind of did.”

That chin-touching gesture had appeared on Xie Lang not long ago. Somehow, Jiang Ling had picked it up without realizing. Song Guanshu didn’t like Xie Lang and, by association, disliked the gesture too.

He reached out and gently moved her hand away from her chin.

Jiang Ling was so deep in thought she didn’t even notice Song Guanshu’s movement.

In the first half of the original novel, Xie Lang was depicted as innocent, naive, and utterly lacking in guile—your textbook sweet but clueless “silly sunshine boy.”

His transformation stemmed from the death of a close friend—he matured overnight, but he always remained someone who understood the ways of the world without becoming worldly himself.

Could it be that he wasn’t as naive as he seemed?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt that something about his words that afternoon had been layered with meaning. Could Xie Lang actually be capable of probing others in a roundabout way?

That conclusion left Jiang Ling feeling a bit deflated. So she had read over half the novel and still hadn’t truly understood the male lead?

When she looked up, she found Song Guanshu watching her. Puzzled, she asked, “What is it?” This man had been acting a bit strange lately.

Instead of answering, Song Guanshu asked her, “What were you thinking about?”

Jiang Ling let out a long sigh. “I’m really just too simple-minded.”

“Compliments should come from someone else’s mouth.”

Jiang Ling looked at him with a smile, her tone righteous and shameless. “Then you compliment me.”

Looking into those crescent-moon eyes, Song Guanshu was momentarily at a loss for words.

Just then, the wooden door outside the kitchen was knocked on with a loud bang bang bang. The two of them, caught in the middle of their gaze, were startled.

They quickly looked away from each other.

Jiang Ling searched for something to say. “Who is it, knocking at this hour?”

At this time of night, there were only a few people who might come knocking—either old landlord Grandpa Sun, or the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law from across the hall, the Liu family.

She walked to the door but didn’t open it immediately.

Through the wooden door, she asked, “What is it?”

The knocking didn’t stop—it continued steadily.

“Open the door, Xiao Song.”

Just from the voice alone, they already knew who it was.

A trace of barely noticeable disgust flashed through Song Guanshu’s eyes—he really didn’t like the family across the hall.

“What is it?” Jiang Ling stood at the door, still refusing to open it.

“Leilei has a fever, Xiao Jiang, hurry and open the door. Let Xiao Song ride his bike and take her to the hospital.”

That tone of entitlement—Jiang Ling couldn’t help but laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d think Liu Lei was Song Guanshu’s own kid.

Jiang Ling waved at him and whispered, “You do the dishes tomorrow night, and I’ll handle this.”

“Deal.”

Then Jiang Ling raised her voice and said, “Sorry, we’ve already gone to bed. It’s really not convenient. Please ask someone else.”

A newlywed couple saying it was “inconvenient”—anyone who’d been married before knew exactly what that implied. After all, it was nighttime, and doing that kind of thing was perfectly normal.

Li Jun had been through it herself, so she immediately understood what Jiang Ling meant.

In her mind, an image of that stunningly pretty face flashed—charming as blooming peach blossoms. Li Jun couldn’t help but spit in disgust. Shameless, saying things like that in broad daylight.

Jiang Ling really had no sense of propriety, clinging to her man and doing that kind of thing all the time.

After cursing Jiang Ling in her heart, she remembered that her son was still at home burning with fever. Her voice turned earnest and pleading. “Xiao Jiang, our Leilei is in danger right now. Please let Xiao Song take him to the hospital. I’m begging you.”

Her voice, tinged with tears, sounded especially sorrowful in the stillness of the night.