Chapter Two: The First Encounter

After lunch, the Night Whisper team returned to the hotel. Xiao Qiu buried his face in the pillow, while Ye Xuan’s complaints drifted in from the next room—words like “pretender,” “strange,” and “ungrateful” could be faintly made out. Xiao Qiu pulled the quilt over his head, trying to calm himself.

At half past two in the afternoon, the Night Whisper team arrived at the conference room of the Public Security Bureau. Xiao Qiu hadn’t slept well at noon; his temples throbbed, and, worried he might lose control of the situation, a thin sheen of sweat formed on his back and palms.

Qi Tian was absentmindedly playing a game on her phone, the low sound effects barely audible. It was the first time she couldn’t focus on her game—she was quite curious to meet this “young lady.”

Mo Yu sketched in her notebook, drawing the gloved hand of Di Xing as described by Ye Xuan, and whispered to Wan Yi, “Do you think it’s the left or the right hand, Yi? Want to make a bet?”

Wan Yi shook her head, declining. She was busy constructing Di Xing’s psychological state in her mind, preparing for the conversation ahead.

Ye Xuan fingered the engraved words “Be prudent and cautious” on his scalpel keychain, quietly gritting his teeth—he would never accept Di Xing, never!

Rong Qin was visibly impatient, his tactical boots tapping against the floor, brows tightly furrowed. “Just where is this young lady—”

Before he could finish, the lock clicked. A girl entered, wearing a mask and a black shirt, her left hand in the pocket of dark gray cargo pants, revealing a hint of black fabric—probably a glove.

Xiao Qiu stood and extended his hand, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. “Hello, I’m Xiao Qiu, leader of the Night Whisper team. You must be Forensic Doctor Di Xing. A pleasure to meet you.”

The girl shook his hand with her right, her voice cold, “Yes, I’m Di Xing. What do you want?”

Xiao Qiu smiled politely and withdrew his hand. “The director sent us to find you. He hopes you’ll join the Night Whisper team. We’re also looking forward to new blood in the group. What do you think?”

Qi Tian didn’t look up from her phone but suddenly interjected, “Blood transfusions need matching types, or—people die. Isn’t that right, Ye Xuan?” The drawn-out ending was a clear provocation.

A moment of silence filled the room, broken only by the wind rattling the branches against the window and the “game over” sound from Qi Tian’s phone.

After a pause, Ye Xuan picked up the thread, “Didn’t you say you wanted to be released from what binds your wings? So, why fly from the provincial department to the city bureau?” He slammed the keychain on the table, the dull thud echoing in the room.

Di Xing pressed her tongue against her molars, her breathing uneven. Her left hand clenched in her pocket, she lowered her gaze and cursed inwardly, “Ridiculous. Do I even know these people? Bunch of idiots!”

Mo Yu’s charcoal paused, revealing a hand on the page, gloved except for the ring and pinky fingers. “Forensic Doctor Di, your personality is like your scalpel. Don’t always wield it against your own, or it becomes a useless weapon that only harms.”

Wan Yi noticed Di Xing’s eyes drop, her right hand occasionally touching her ear—a clear sign of impatience.

Rong Qin slammed the table, making the water in his cup spill as everyone, including Di Xing, looked at him. He was furious. “Stop playing dumb! Either put away your thorns or leave—I’m done coddling the young lady!”

Wan Yi could bear it no longer and gently rebuked them, “Enough! Forensic Doctor Di, I apologize for everyone’s attitude. Aside from the director’s request, we truly look forward to welcoming a new member. What do you think?”

Di Xing’s clenched hand relaxed. She glanced at Wan Yi, “Thank you for the invitation. I need time to consider.” Giving the group a cold sweep of her eyes, she opened the door and left.

“Do you all think the city bureau is some kind of marketplace?” Xiao Qiu slammed the back of his chair as Qi Tian shrank her neck guiltily. “No matter what old grudges you have, the director sent her to us for integration, not for a public trial! Whose idea was this? Speak!”

Mo Yu and Rong Qin pointed at Qi Tian, who coughed awkwardly. “Uh… Captain, I just wanted to give her a warning, so she’ll behave in our team.”

Xiao Qiu rubbed his brow and sighed deeply, “Back to the hotel!” He grabbed the car keys. “Don’t let me catch you bringing personal grudges into work again.”

The ride back was oppressively silent. Rain pattered on the car, a soothing white noise. Qi Tian dozed off, Rong Qin scrolled quietly through his phone, Mo Yu’s charcoal whispered across her sketchbook, Wan Yi rested her head against the window listening to the rain, and Ye Xuan frowned, rubbing his keychain.

At the front desk, Xiao Qiu extended their stay before heading upstairs. Passing Mo Yu’s room, he overheard her whispering to Wan Yi, “Do you think I went too far today? I shouldn’t have…” The rest was lost as the door closed.

Ye Xuan’s door was tightly shut, a “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging—he’d just collected it from the front desk. Since leaving the bureau, he hadn’t spoken a word.

From Qi Tian’s room came the sound of typing, punctuated by curses, “Damn, dead again!” Rong Qin quietly admonished, “Keep it down. Still in the mood for games, unbelievable.”

Returning to his own room, Xiao Qiu leaned against the door. Only then did he realize he hadn’t gotten Di Xing’s contact information. It seemed he’d have to apologize in person tomorrow. He pulled a notepad from the nightstand and began drafting a letter.

His fingers whitened as he gripped the note. After five minutes, all he’d written was “Forensic Doctor Di Xing.” Suddenly, he tore the note to shreds and tossed it in the trash, pacing irritably—he had no idea what words could mend the situation. Since the director had listed her as a candidate, it meant he wanted her to join the Night Whisper team. If Di Xing’s temperament was truly as rumored, not even the director himself might persuade her now.

Calming himself, Xiao Qiu knocked on Mo Yu’s door. She opened it, lowering her head at the sight of him. “Captain—” He cut her off and looked at Wan Yi. “Wan Yi, come with me.”

In the corridor, Wan Yi already knew what he wanted to ask. Before he could speak, she produced a notebook. “Captain, I personally believe Di Xing’s temperament may stem from past trauma—her detachment seems like a defensive reaction.”

“A defensive reaction?” Xiao Qiu was surprised. “Why would she have that? I want to apologize tomorrow—any advice on what to say?”

Wan Yi shook her head. “I lean towards her having post-traumatic stress. I don’t know the specifics. But if you apologize, I suggest you don’t mention her hand.”

Xiao Qiu sighed, a smile more painful than tears on his face. “Thank you. Go get some rest.”

Back in his room, the desk lamp cast a warm circle of light. Xiao Qiu pulled out a fresh notepad, pen hovering above the page for a long time before finally beginning to write.