Chapter 77: Heaven and Earth Turned Upside Down

Chen Yu’s sleep was so heavy it felt as if he’d been dismantled into a pile of spare parts, then reassembled with rusted screws by rough hands. Every bone and muscle in his body cried out in protest, howling against the humiliation of having been mercilessly tossed about the night before by that demon named Li Qing.

Damn it.

It was mortifying.

To think he, the undefeated champion of hand-to-hand combat at the police academy, had been wrestled to the ground for an hour by a woman, forced into all sorts of bizarre holds. Even in his dreams, he felt trapped in a sticky, suffocating cloud of cotton candy, his consciousness drifting in and out, longing to rot away and disappear from a world that had stripped him of all dignity.

Then, a forceful, almost violent shaking snapped him out of his stupor, as if someone meant to wrench out his shattered pride along with his very organs. A familiar voice, shrill with urgency, stabbed into his ears like a steel needle.

“Chen Yu! Chen Yu, get up! Something’s happened!”

It was Li Qing.

Chen Yu’s eyelids fought against her, but finally he pried them open a sliver.

“What time is it…” His voice dripped with the resentment of a man robbed of his dreams.

“It’s four thirty in the morning!”

“Shit…” Fury surged through him. “What are you, calling up ghosts at this hour?”

He was certain she was doing this for revenge, just because he’d failed to force himself on her last night.

“Su Qingzhu called your phone over thirty times. The vibration nearly shook my soul out. I couldn’t sleep, so I answered for you!” Li Qing’s tone held none of her usual languor or teasing, only pure, sharpened anxiety.

“What?” Chen Yu’s heart clenched. His first instinctive thought was absurd: “Has the second season of the love triangle begun already? Is Su Qingzhu calling to catch us in the act?”

But Li Qing had no time for his dirty little thoughts. Her words came rapid-fire, like a machine gun.

“She said… Brother Lei died in their squad!”

“Captain Yan’s been detained!”

“What?” It was as if someone had pressed pause on Chen Yu’s mind.

A deafening buzz.

His thoughts went blank. All traces of sleep—and pain—vanished in an instant. He shot up from the soft bed with such speed it startled even him. He stared fixedly at Li Qing, half expecting he’d misheard, or perhaps was still trapped in some godforsaken nightmare.

“Explain—more clearly,” he demanded, his voice trembling involuntarily.

Li Qing, taking in his ghost-stricken expression, drew a deep breath and repeated herself, slowly and distinctly.

“Brother Lei is dead. Right there in the City Investigation Unit’s interrogation room!”

“Captain Yan Zheng—because he’s the only suspect—has been detained by internal affairs!”

It felt as if something exploded inside Chen Yu’s skull.

He had no idea how he managed to throw on his clothes, rush out the hotel room door, or stumble into a cab.

Outside the window, the city of Jiangcheng streaked by, dawn just brushing the horizon. The streetlights stretched their beams through the damp early mist, casting long shadows that seemed to mock him. His mind was a tangled mess.

Guilt.

No, not just guilt.

A suffocating regret clawed at him, as if countless hands reached from every direction to strangle his heart and drag him down to hell.

He had only been in this world for five days.

Yet, in those five days, more had happened than in all his previous twenty-three years—more tumult, more chaos.

Yan Zheng.

That stubborn, by-the-book old detective, always quoting regulations, yet willing to shoulder all the blame and bend the rules for Chen Yu’s sake.

The only one who could truly match him in chess, making him feel the thrill of a worthy opponent.

Now, he’d been detained by his own people?

And Brother Lei—the kingpin who’d ruled Jiangcheng’s underworld for over a decade, the crucial link in the Liu Gang investigation—had died in the interrogation room?

He’d slept too deeply! While Li Qing had knocked him senseless and he’d slept like a dead pig, the world outside had turned inside out.

What had happened while he was unconscious? How did Brother Lei end up in the city squad? How did he die? With Brother Lei gone, wouldn’t Liu Gang’s line of investigation be completely cut off?

Damn it!

Chen Yu slammed his fist into the cold car window with a dull thud. The taxi driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror and silently pressed harder on the accelerator.

The Investigation Unit’s building loomed in the dawn mist, silent and grim. Chen Yu flung some bills at the driver and nearly tumbled out of the car, charging inside.

Where the lobby was usually bustling, now it was utterly deserted. Overhead, harsh white lights poured down, draining every corner of warmth or life.

A chilling, deathly silence.

At the far end of the long, dark corridor leading to the interrogation rooms crouched a solitary figure, huddled in a cold corner, fragile and lost.

Chen Yu halted abruptly.

He recognized her.

Su Qingzhu.

The usually decisive, razor-sharp beauty, her proud chin always lifted, now sat hugging her knees, her head buried in her arms, trembling like an abandoned stray cat.

She heard his approaching footsteps and slowly lifted her head. That exquisite face, always frosted with indifference, was now streaked with tears and exhaustion that would break any man’s heart.

But as she saw Chen Yu—who nearly sprinted to her—the emptiness in her beautiful eyes flickered, a faint light appearing, like someone drowning who finally finds a lifeline.

She lurched to her feet, swaying, stumbling into his arms.

“What happened?” Chen Yu demanded, striding up to her, not realizing his tone was thick with suppressed accusation. “Why was Captain Yan detained? Why did Brother Lei die here? What the hell were you doing last night?!”

His barrage of questions landed like invisible blows on Su Qingzhu’s face.

She was stunned, staring blankly at him, her lips quivering, unable to utter a word.

The small hope that had just kindled in her eyes faded rapidly, extinguished before his eyes.

“Master… went into the holding cell voluntarily,” she finally managed, her voice hoarse and thick with tears. “Brother Lei…”

Her eyes reddened, and the strength she’d been holding onto finally collapsed. The fear, shame, and sorrow she’d bottled up all night broke loose—heavy tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

Choking with sobs, she forced out the story: “Yesterday... it was too busy all day... Master told me to go home and rest last night... He said he would take the night shift...”

“But then... then Brother Lei was found dead! The coroner says it was sudden asphyxiation... And last night, Master was the only one on duty in the entire squad… I…”

Her words dissolved into sobs. She covered her face, her shoulders shaking violently, her cries muffled but piercing.

The nameless fire in Chen Yu’s heart was doused by a bucket of ice, leaving only cold ashes pressed tight against his chest.

He looked at the broken woman before him and almost laughed at the absurdity.

Yan Zheng. That old fox.

Once again, he’d shouldered everything alone.

But why?

Chen Yu sighed silently.

He reached out and, somewhat awkwardly, patted Su Qingzhu’s shoulder.

Surprisingly, she didn’t shy away as she usually did.

Still trembling, she leaned into his touch.

Chen Yu softened his voice, adopting a gentle tone even he barely recognized.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

Su Qingzhu’s sobs slowly quieted. She looked up at him, as if clinging to her last hope.

“Tell me,” Chen Yu said, fixing her with his gaze. “When did Brother Lei come in? Where did you find him?”

Su Qingzhu’s breathing steadied a little. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and whispered, “Brother Lei turned himself in last evening.”

Turned himself in?

Chen Yu’s brow furrowed. That made no sense. With Brother Lei’s character, he would try to fix the sky itself before ever confessing. Unless… he’d been forced?

“He said… he said he was responsible for all the deaths,” she murmured.

“What?” Chen Yu stiffened, his pupils contracting.

“All?” he pressed. “What do you mean, all the deaths?”

“Besides Zhang Luoluo, who else… who else did he confess to killing?”