My hand gently found the curve of her waist. She froze for a second, then, with a sudden flush of shyness, lowered her head and went back to wiping the table, acting as if I didn't exist. With a slight pull, I drew her fully into my embrace, enveloping her entirely. Yet, she remained silent, only her cheeks growing hotter. I lightly pressed my lips against hers, and an instant surge of current shot through my chest. I could feel her heart hammering; mine beat just as fiercely.

Just then, my phone let out an ill-timed ring. Sometimes, life truly is a poorly written drama, and I found myself cast in one of those incredibly cliché scenes. Well, now both Wen Shu and I were looking at each other with a shared, awkward embarrassment.

The call was from Officer He. He first congratulated me on my discharge from the hospital and then asked me to come to the precinct at three that afternoon to assist with clarifying some details. Everything was proceeding as expected. I was intensely curious whether Li Xiaoshu B used human means or spectral methods to make the hospital and the police department so compliant. If he used human means, I felt no respect for him; if he used spectral means, I desperately wanted to interview him on why he didn't just deal with Officer He using the spectral path and seize the postal album. It seemed there were things even he couldn't manage.

Wen Shu volunteered to stay home, taking up her cleaning duties again while also keeping watch over the place for me. At three in the afternoon, I went to the Public Security Bureau alone. This was my first time ever stepping through the doors of a police station—I hadn’t even been to one to register my household when I first arrived in the city. Today was certainly an eye-opener. Turns out, the precinct looked little different from any standard government office building. The only distinguishing feature was the conspicuous sign hanging above the main entrance, making it instantly recognizable as the PSB. How could such an ordinary place manage to stump that fellow?

Officer He's office was on the third floor. I climbed the two flights of stairs, searching for the room number he’d given me, going from one door to the next until I found it—the very last one at the end of the hall. I approached the doorway; the door was ajar. Officer He was bent low over his desk, the scratch of his pen rhythmically marking the paper as he scribbled something down. I gave a light rap on the wood. He looked up, saw me, and offered a faint smile, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I settled into the chair opposite his desk and noticed a magazine splayed open beside his paperwork—Stamp World. He was meticulously copying some text from it onto a sheet of paper.

"You enjoy reading Stamp World?" The image of Old Shao flashed through my mind. "I had a friend who loved this magazine before he passed away."

"His name was Shao Chuyi. He was your roommate at the asylum who later drowned in an accident," Officer He replied without looking up.

"How do you know all this?" I asked, astonished.

"I handled that case. After his death, the hospital turned all his personal effects over to the police. I kept this magazine from his belongings; it contains some very interesting stories. Alright," he lifted his head, placing his pen down, and looked at me with sober seriousness. "My colleague will be here shortly; we need to ask you a few questions. Once we're done, you’ll be free to go. Thank you for assisting the police investigation."

Five minutes later, another officer knocked and entered. Officer He gestured for us to move to the sofa area. I followed his direction and sat down. Once the three of us were settled, I finally remembered to look at the officer who had just walked in. The sight struck me instantly, causing a cold sweat to break out across my face—how could he look exactly like Hou Dayong?