HL 57

Ying Yusheng made a snap decision and issued instructions rapidly: “You two masters, take Nanxiao to the small compartment on the third floor and make sure he doesn’t make a sound. The two aunties stay downstairs. I’ll handle the rest—you don’t need to speak.”

Ying Yusheng was the pillar of this place. Everyone nodded and immediately dispersed to carry out their respective tasks.

Ying Yusheng led a few people in quickly tidying up the house, removing all traces of Xu Nanxiao’s presence so that it matched perfectly with that of a man living alone. Then he steadied himself, and when he opened his eyes again, there was no ripple in them, yet they burned with a hidden fire.

He opened the door, but unexpectedly found a familiar face outside, and asked with a frown, “Captain Meng?”

Meng Zhao nodded, but unlike his usual easygoing manner, he greeted him very seriously: “Professor Ying, long time no see.”

“I heard from the housekeeper that you’re looking for Nanxiao? He’s not here. After we argued and parted ways, he went back to his hometown in Hebei. We haven’t been in contact since.”

“…”

“Wait—has something happened?”

Ying Yusheng’s acting was so masterful that even a veteran detective like Meng Zhao, with over a decade of experience, couldn’t detect any falseness in the concern in his eyes.

But since Meng Zhao had come, he must have had some evidence, so he said matter-of-factly, “We received a report from a member of the public that Xu Nanxiao is missing and that it’s related to you. Please cooperate with the investigation. If nothing is wrong, it’ll clear your name, won’t it?”

“A report?” Ying Yusheng’s gaze turned cold.

Meng Zhao didn’t want to argue with him at the door. He motioned for two young officers to follow him inside, but Ying Yusheng reached out and blocked them directly.

“Where’s the search warrant?”

Meng Zhao looked at him coldly, then reached behind him. The young officer immediately unrolled the paper in his hand—black text, white paper, red seal, right in front of his eyes.

Ying Yusheng looked at it for three seconds, then slowly lowered his arm.

“Go ahead.”

The three filed in without a word and began splitting up to search the house.

First floor. Kitchen, living room, housekeeper’s quarters.

Opening cabinets, lifting cushions, checking between sofa cushions.

Juanjuan was startled into a stress response and barked wildly at the strangers. But no one paid her any attention—the breeze from the young officer’s passing steps nearly knocked her over. The housekeepers stood silently in the corner, their fingers twisting nervously in front of them.

Second floor. Bedroom, study, walk-in closet.

Meng Zhao walked to the bed and bent down to look at the pillows. Only one side had an indentation; the down on the other side was puffed up high, as if it had never been slept on.

He straightened up, his brow furrowing slightly, wavering for a moment—could he have wrongly accused Ying Yusheng?

He walked over to the television and noticed a shelf stacked with game discs. He picked one up and turned it over, then waved it at Ying Yusheng as he asked, “Professor Ying plays games too?”

“Captain Meng, are you even going to monitor whether I play games or not?” Ying Yusheng was already showing signs of anger, asking with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

A smiling tiger is most fearsome when angry, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.

How could this be? It shouldn’t be like this—had those young kids at the club lied to him? Meng Zhao was terribly agitated inside, unconsciously picking at the dead skin on his thumb.

If Xu Nanxiao wasn’t with Ying Yusheng, then where was he? Was he still safe? Could he really have gone back to his hometown in despair, cutting all ties with his former social circles?

Damn it—if it wasn’t Ying Yusheng, then going this far would make future cooperation difficult!

“Captain, nothing unusual.”

“Captain, no one else is here. I’ve questioned the housekeepers too.”

The two young officers’ reports once again confirmed Ying Yusheng’s innocence, and Meng Zhao’s heart sank even further. Ying Yusheng’s gaze felt like a thousand needles piercing his back, forcing him to make a statement.

“Sorry, Professor Ying.” The easygoing smile reappeared on his face. “Since a citizen filed a report, we couldn’t just ignore it. Forgive us, forgive us.”

Meng Zhao made the two young officers apologize as well. They bowed their heads, inwardly grumbling, wondering who had been so confident in the police car.

“Can you leave now?” Ying Yusheng said expressionlessly. “I was just resting.”

“Yes, yes, we’re going.”

Meng Zhao ushered the two young men out, but after taking just two steps, he suddenly felt something was off.

What was it…

In a flash, he suddenly realized—when he’d looked at the villa from outside, the roof was a peaked structure! But inside, the ceiling was flat!

Then what about the space above?!

So Meng Zhao looked up and quickly scanned the ceiling, and suddenly spotted a square, perfectly straight seam that followed the ceiling pattern so well it was almost invisible. If he hadn’t been in the business for twenty years, examining more crime scenes than movies he’d watched, he never would have spotted it.

The seam was narrow, but if a person were thin enough and could hunch their shoulders…

Almost simultaneously, Meng Zhao noticed that Ying Yusheng’s expression had shifted slightly! His eyes widened, and he immediately grabbed a chair and placed it directly beneath the seam. Just as he was about to step onto it, Ying Yusheng yanked him down.

“Captain Meng.” Ying Yusheng’s grip was like iron shackles, impossible to break free from. He leaned in and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, “All the cases you’ve solved over the years, the honors you’ve received—haven’t they all been mutual achievements? Or do you want to personally find out how much you’d have left if you took away my part?”

Both of them knew exactly what Ying Yusheng meant. Faced with this blatant threat, Meng Zhao froze, his jaw clenched tight.

But only for a moment. Then, one by one, he pried Ying Yusheng’s fingers loose and resolutely stepped onto the chair.

“Professor Ying, cases are solved at the scene, not on paper.”

His foot planted firmly on the seat.

“As for what I have left—”

He raised his hand to push at the seam.

“It’s enough to uncover whatever you’re hiding.”

Before he could even act, the next second, that square hidden compartment shuddered from the inside out, bursting open so forcefully that the panel nearly sliced his forehead.

“Whoa!” Meng Zhao instinctively leaned back, jumping off the chair and stumbling two steps before regaining his balance.

A metal ladder crashed to the floor, echoing with a dull thud.

Someone emerged halfway from the darkness—first a shoulder, then an arm. He gripped the ladder’s edge and climbed down slowly, unhurriedly, as if fetching winter clothes from his own attic.

The sound of shoes hitting the floor was very soft, the entire room utterly silent.

Ying Yusheng’s pupils contracted sharply.

Impossible? What happened in there? Four men couldn’t stop Nanxiao? No—calm down.

It didn’t matter. Even if Meng Zhao took him away, he’d be safe. All he had to do now was send people to follow Xu Nanxiao closely, and no matter where he ran, he could be caught again. As for anyone who got in his way—one by one, he would not let them off.

Ying Yusheng’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stepped forward, but Meng Zhao got there first, rushing up and grabbing Xu Nanxiao’s shoulder with such force that even Xu Nanxiao leaned back slightly:

“Where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for you?!” His shout reverberated through the empty room.

But Xu Nanxiao looked completely unfazed. He stared at Meng Zhao for a few seconds, then impatiently brushed his hand away. “Why are you looking for me when you’ve got nothing better to do?”

Now all the officers were dumbfounded. Ying Yusheng’s mind went completely blank, staring fixedly at Xu Nanxiao, forgetting to even breathe.

Meng Zhao’s voice caught in his throat. “You… weren’t you being held here?”

“Who said that? Are you kidding? Old Meng, have you forgotten—I’m a professional athlete. Who could possibly keep me locked up?”

Meng Zhao took a deep breath, suppressing his surging emotions, and switched back to his official tone: “Nanxiao, this isn’t the time to save face. Don’t be afraid—it’s over now. You’re safe. We’re taking you back.”

Xu Nanxiao looked up and asked calmly, “Back where?”

Meng Zhao opened his mouth.

“You want me to go… back where?”

For a moment, Meng Zhao felt a strange sense of déjà vu—he’d seen this look before, heard this conversation before.

Then he remembered. When Xu Nanxiao was a kid, his father used to beat him. The neighbors couldn’t stand it and called the police, so Meng Zhao had brought the child to the police station for protection. But the station couldn’t keep a kid forever—eventually, he had to send him back.

Back then, Xu Nanxiao had curled up on his dormitory bed, blood crusted to his pant leg. He’d looked up in confusion, tattered and broken, and asked him: “Back where? Where do you want me to go?”

That was Xu Nanxiao at twelve.

That was Meng Zhao sixteen years ago.

“So you’re saying you weren’t being imprisoned?” The young officer finally steered the conversation back on track.

“That’s right.”

“Then why are you living with him?”

Xu Nanxiao was silent for a moment, then let out a scoff and turned his face away. “A man and a man living together—what else could it be besides like?”

Before the words had fully faded, a hand suddenly reached in from the side and pushed Meng Zhao aside.

Meng Zhao stumbled back a step, and before he could react, he saw Ying Yusheng step past him.

Those steps were like wading through water, like trudging through a long, unanswered stretch of time. Everything slowed down, everything became a blurred background—only that one person remained in focus.

Then he crashed into Xu Nanxiao’s arms.

Ying Yusheng held on with desperate force, as if facing death, and cupped Xu Nanxiao’s face as he kissed him.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was almost savage. He bit his own lip, and the taste of blood spread between their teeth. His hands were trembling, his whole body trembling.

Xu Nanxiao didn’t pull away. Instead, he gripped the back of Ying Yusheng’s neck and pulled him closer.

Meng Zhao, with his old-fashioned, conventional mind, slowly turned his head, suddenly unsure where to look. He hurriedly pretended to be busy scanning the room, only to find his two colleagues also glancing around awkwardly.

After what felt like an eternity, Ying Yusheng pulled back half a step.

His eyes were faintly rimmed with red, but his voice was steady:

“Captain Meng, any more questions?”

…

After repeatedly confirming Xu Nanxiao’s intentions and making sure he wasn’t being coerced, Meng Zhao apologized to Ying Yusheng and left.

But late at night, whenever he thought back on this matter, he always felt that things weren’t as simple as Xu Nanxiao had made them out to be.

Still, since no crime had been committed, it wasn’t within the police’s jurisdiction, and he had no right to meddle in their personal affairs.

All he could say was that both Xu Nanxiao and Ying Yusheng were a little unhinged.

Afterward, Meng Zhao informed the club members of the situation. They hadn’t expected Xu Nanxiao to willingly stay by Ying Yusheng’s side, and they all let out long breaths of relief, the heavy weight in their hearts finally lifted. Thank heavens—guilt wouldn’t come knocking on their doors in the dead of night anymore.

What a happy ending for everyone!!!