My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 11

“We’re almost there,” came A-Zuo’s voice from the driver’s seat.

Lin Jiqiu opened her eyes and saw the familiar street scene through the car window. It was two in the morning, and the streets were deserted, with only the streetlights receding one by one. The flower shop’s shutters were closed, and the cafe’s lights were off. Everything was quiet, as if nothing had happened.

The car stopped in front of the office. A-Zuo turned off the engine and opened the car door. Another car had already arrived—Xiao-Yu and Xiao-Yi got out of that car, stood by the roadside, wrapped in blankets, their faces pale.

Lin Jiqiu pushed open the car door and got out. Her legs felt a little weak—not because of physical strength, but because the exhaustion from the position change combined with the injuries to her original body made her body somewhat unresponsive.

“Lin Qiu—no, that…” Xiao Yi looked at her, unsure of what to call her.

“Call me Lin Jiqiu,” she said. “We’ll talk inside.”

Ah-you had already opened the office door and was standing in the doorway, holding a medicine box. His expression was much more serious than usual. He didn’t say anything, but simply stepped aside to let them in.

A-Zuo followed behind, carrying several blankets in his hands.

Cheng Ran was the last to get off the bus, closed the door, and locked it. He stood at the doorway and glanced at the street corner—no one, no cars. Then he turned and went inside.

A-Zuo closed the door and locked it.

All the lights in the office were on. Ayou placed the first-aid kit on the coffee table and turned to go to the kitchen to boil water. Azuo handed blankets to Xiaoyu and Xiaoyi, then went behind the counter, turned on his computer, and began doing what he did best—organizing information, erasing traces, and ensuring no one could track him here.

Lin Jiqiu sat on the sofa, leaning against the cushions. Cheng Ran sat down next to her, reached for the medicine box, opened it, and took out iodine, cotton swabs, and gauze.

“Let me see,” he said.

Lin Jiqiu turned her head slightly to let him examine the wound on her forehead. His fingers gently parted her hair to check the depth of the wound.

“It needs stitches,” he said. “Two stitches.”

Can you?

“meeting.”

When did you learn it?

“Before.” Cheng Ran didn’t explain further, and took out a sewing kit from the medicine box—not ordinary needles and thread, but the kind used for suturing wounds, which had been sterilized and placed in a sealed bag.

Xiao Yi watched from the side, her face turning even paler. “You…you’re going to sew here?”

“Go upstairs.” Lin Jiqiu stood up. “Ayou, take them to rest. There are empty rooms on the second floor.”

Ah You poked his head out of the kitchen, holding a kettle. “Everything’s cleaned up. The second room on the left, the third room on the right, the sheets are all clean.”

Xiaoyu, holding Xiaoyi’s hand, followed Ayou upstairs. After a few steps, Xiaoyu stopped and looked back at Lin Jiqiu. “Are you…are you alright?”

“It’s alright,” Lin Jiqiu said. “Let’s talk again tomorrow. Get some rest tonight.”

Xiaoyu nodded and turned to go upstairs.

The footsteps on the stairs disappeared. Cheng Ran stood up and picked up the first-aid kit. “Come upstairs, I’ll stitch you up.”

Lin Jiqiu’s room was on the third floor. Cheng Ran had her sit on a chair by the bed, and then moved a chair over and sat opposite her. The bedside lamp was on; the light wasn’t too bright, but it was enough to see the wound clearly.

He gently wiped the area around the wound twice with an iodine-soaked cotton swab, but Lin Jiqiu’s fingers still flinched when the iodine touched the wound.

“pain?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Your heart rate has increased.”

“…Could you please stop monitoring me all the time?”

“I can’t control it,” Cheng Ran said, picking up the needle.

Lin Jiqiu looked at the needle and took a deep breath. She wasn’t afraid of pain—at least she thought she wasn’t. But when the needle approached her skin, her body still tensed instinctively.

“Don’t look,” Cheng Ran said.

Lin Jiqiu shifted her gaze to the window. The curtains weren’t drawn, revealing a small patch of the night sky. There were no stars, only the distant city lights that tinged the horizon with a dark orange hue.

She felt a slight sting as the needle pierced her skin. It wasn’t intense, but it was distinct. Cheng Ran’s hand was steady, and his movements were quick, as if he had done this many times before.

“Okay,” he said.

Lin Jiqiu looked down and saw a small piece of gauze on his forehead, secured with tape.

“When did you learn to sew?” she asked.

“Back in Rusty Bones,” Cheng Ran said calmly as he packed his medical kit, “there were no doctors there. If you got injured, you had to treat yourself.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. “Are you often injured?”

“before.”

“And now?”

Cheng Ran paused for a moment. “Now I have you.”

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Lin Jiqiu didn’t speak, nor did Cheng Ran. He lowered his head and continued packing his medicine kit, wrapping the used cotton swabs in gauze and throwing them into the trash can.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

Thank you for today.

Cheng Ran’s fingers paused for a moment. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s not just a polite gesture,” Lin Jiqiu said. “I really thank you. Without you… I might not have made it out.”

Cheng Ran looked up at her. The light from the desk lamp fell on his face, illuminating his eyes. “You can get out. You always can. I just…” He paused, “waiting for you at the rendezvous point.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him and slowly smiled. “Then you’ve been waiting.”

“Um.”

Cheng Ran stood up and picked up his first-aid kit. “You should rest. There’s a lot to take care of tomorrow.”

He walked to the door, stopped, and didn’t turn around.

“Lin Jiqiu”.

“Um?”

“…When you switched places today, my senses…for a moment I couldn’t feel you.”

Lin Jiqiu was taken aback.

“Just for a split second,” Cheng Ran’s voice was low. “I thought…”

He didn’t finish speaking. Then he pushed open the door and went out.

The footsteps faded away down the corridor and disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Lin Jiqiu sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the closed door.

“Thought…what?”

She asked softly, but no one answered.

The next morning, when Lin Jiqiu woke up, sunlight was already streaming in through the gaps in the curtains. She sat up and touched the gauze on her forehead—Cheng Ran had applied it very firmly the night before, and it was still fine after a whole night.

She got up, changed into clean clothes, and went downstairs.

Ah Zuo was already behind the counter, with several printed documents spread out in front of him. Ah You was making breakfast in the kitchen, the hum of the range hood coming through the wall.

“Good morning.” A-Zuo looked up at her.

Good morning. Where are Xiaoyu and the others?

“Still sleeping. I was too tired last night.”

Lin Jiqiu walked to the sofa and sat down. A Zuo placed a glass of warm water in front of her. “Brother Cheng is at the studio. He didn’t go home last night.”

“He didn’t sleep all night?”

“Yes. I’ve been researching that organization.”

Lin Jiqiu picked up his water glass, took a sip, stood up, and walked towards the studio. The door was ajar, and Cheng Ran was sitting in front of the computer, the screen displaying dense data and charts. He heard footsteps but didn’t turn around.

“morning.”

Good morning. Didn’t you sleep all night?

“I slept for two hours.”

“That doesn’t count as sleeping.”

“That’s enough.”

Lin Jiqiu walked over to him and looked at the screen. “What did you find?”

“That camp has been sealed off by the police.” Cheng Ran pulled up a news report: “At four o’clock this morning, the police received an anonymous tip and raided the place. Seventeen people were rescued.”

“Seventeen?”

“Yes. They are all missing persons. The youngest is sixteen years old, and the oldest is twenty-four.”

Lin Jiqiu stared at the names and photos on the screen. She recognized some of the faces from the walls of that room; others she didn’t. She remained silent for a few seconds.

Where is Teacher Mingyi?

“He ran away.” Cheng Ran pulled up another set of data. “The surveillance footage shows that he left about forty minutes before the police arrived. There were three other people with him—the one in the black jacket, Teacher Chen, and the driver.”

“Is it possible to find out where they went?”

“Not for now. They changed cars and routes, as if they had planned this in advance.” Cheng Ran turned to look at her. “But I will find it.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded.

“There’s one more thing,” Cheng Ran said. “I’ve traced the organization’s funding chain to an upstream account. The account holder… is connected to the Mirror Association.”

Lin Jiqiu’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The Mirror Meeting?”

“Hmm. It’s not a direct connection, but tracing the flow of funds leads to a foundation overseas. That foundation… I’ve seen it before.”

“Where?”

“In the Stargazers’ database,” Cheng Ran’s voice lowered, “Three years ago, I hacked into the Stargazers’ system and saw the name of that foundation.”

Lin Jiqiu remained silent for a few seconds.

The Mirror Society, Rust Bones, and the Stargazers. For the first time, the threads of these three organizations intersected.

“You mean, these three organizations might be connected?”

“Not necessarily,” Cheng Ran said. “But at least they have overlapping funding. It could be the same investor, a business partnership, or it could just be a coincidence.”

Do you think it’s a coincidence?

Cheng Ran looked at her.

What do you think?

Lin Jiqiu did not answer.

Ah You’s voice came from outside: “Boss! Breakfast is ready! Xiao Yu and the others are awake too!”

Lin Jiqiu turned and walked towards the door, then stopped. “Cheng Ran.”

“Um.”

“Take a nap after you finish eating.”

“good.”

“I didn’t say ‘okay.’ I said ‘take a nap.’”

Cheng Ran watched her retreating figure, a slight smile curving his lips. “…Okay.”

In the restaurant, Xiaoyu and Xiaoyi sat at the table, with porridge and steamed buns in front of them. They looked much better than last night—their complexions weren’t as pale, and their eyes weren’t as unfocused. But Xiaoyu’s lips were still trembling slightly, and Xiaoyi’s hand was under the table, clutching something.

Lin Jiqiu sat down opposite them.

Did you sleep well last night?

Xiaoyu nodded. Xiaoyi shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Xiaoyu said, “It’s just… I had a lot of dreams.”

“That’s normal,” Lin Jiqiu said. “Your bodies and minds need time to recover.”

Xiao Yi looked up at her. “Lin…Lin Jiqiu.”

“Just call me Jiqiu.”

“Jiqiu…” Xiaoyi repeated the name, as if getting used to it, “Are you really an investigator?”

Lin Jiqiu thought for a moment. “I guess so. I run a firm that specializes in handling these kinds of things.”

“Then…how did you get in? You’ve become a different person? Did you put on makeup? Or…”

“Xiao Yi.” Xiao Yu gently tugged at her sleeve.

Xiao Yi realized she had asked too many questions and shut her mouth.

Lin Jiqiu looked at the two of them and remained silent for a few seconds. “I have some special abilities. I can transform into other people. I can send out clones to scout. The cat you saw last night was also one of my clones.”

Xiao Yi’s mouth opened. Xiao Yu’s eyes widened a little.

“So you…you’re not an ordinary person?”

“No,” Lin Jiqiu said, “but my abilities are used for these things—investigating disappearances, uncovering the truth, and saving lives.”

Xiaoyu looked at her, her eyes slowly reddening. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lin Jiqiu said. “It’s my job.”

Xiao Yi lowered her head and stirred the porridge in her bowl with her chopsticks. “I… probably won’t sign up for any activities online anymore.”

“It’s not just online,” Lin Jiqiu said. “Anywhere, in any organization, whenever someone tells you ‘you’re not good enough,’ ‘you need to change,’ or ‘let me tell you who you are,’ you should be wary.”

Xiaoyu nodded.

“You can rest here for now,” Lin Jiqiu said, standing up. “I’ll have someone take you home this afternoon.”

“And you?” Xiaoyu asked.

“I have other things to do.”

Later in the morning, Cheng Ran finally went to sleep.

Lin Jiqiu stood at the door of his studio, looking inside. The computer screen was off, and a coat lay on the chair. Cheng Ran lay on a cot in the corner of the studio, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Even in his sleep, his brows were slightly furrowed—as if he was processing information even in his dreams.

Lin Jiqiu went in and gently draped the coat over him.

Cheng Ran’s eyelids twitched, but he didn’t wake up.

She stood there for a few seconds, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.

A-Zuo was organizing documents behind the counter, while A-You was washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Boss,” A-Zuo said without looking up, “what’s next with that organization?”

“Let Xiaoyu and the others go home first,” Lin Jiqiu said. “Then… investigate.”

“Investigate what?”

“Eye examination meeting”.

A-Zuo looked up at her.

Lin Jiqiu stood by the window, looking at the street scene outside. The florist was watering the flowers, and the cafe staff were moving tables and chairs. Everything seemed normal, just like a few days ago.

But things are different now.

She learned what lay behind that iron gate. She learned what those photos meant. She learned that—in this city, there were still people doing things that shouldn’t be allowed.

“A-Zuo.”

“exist.”

“This commission is not over yet.”

A-Zuo looked at her and slowly nodded.

“clear.”

Lin Jiqiu turned around and went upstairs.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped and looked back.

The office door was closed, but sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on A-Zuo’s filing cabinet, A-You’s apron, and the cat clone on the sofa.

Everything is the same as it was a few days ago.

But everything is different now.

She continued walking uphill.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the stairwell, growing fainter and fainter.