Chapter Fifty-Three: Each Returns to Their Own Life

As soon as the two of them stepped into the police station, Little Seven came rushing in, with someone hot on her heels. That person looked awfully familiar. Wasn’t he the flower thief? Running all the way here in the rain! And Little Seven too, not even bothering with an umbrella, dashing in so hurriedly—what on earth had happened?

“Well, hello, beautiful—you’re back at work again?” The flower thief, upon spotting Mo Lan, naturally stopped chasing Little Seven.

“What are you two up to? Why are you following Little Seven? And why are you here again?” Mo Lan was truly puzzled as to why this man could wander in and out of places like this as he pleased. Did he really have nothing better to do every day?

“That woman is quite… ‘interesting’, so I wanted to strike a deal with her. But she keeps avoiding me, so I could only chase her here,” the flower thief said, putting particular emphasis on the word “interesting.”

“Unauthorized persons aren’t allowed inside, so please leave,” Mo Lan said, not caring to engage further. Since it wasn’t anything urgent, it was best he left quickly.

“Hey… is this how you burn your bridges?” The flower thief protested, thinking Mo Lan was stopping him to bring him inside.

“Do you want to spend a few more days inside? You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” An Feng’s expression towards the flower thief was as cold as ice, pouring cold water on his hopes. Men like him were lecherous; Mo Lan should not be anywhere near him.

Sensing the murderous aura, the flower thief quickly waved his hands and dashed away at remarkable speed. He could probably outrun an ordinary bike, Mo Lan thought with some admiration. Then again, for a flower thief, running slow meant getting caught and beaten.

Seeing Mo Lan still staring after the flower thief, An Feng could only sigh and head inside. Noticing someone had left her side, Mo Lan hurried to catch up with An Feng.

No sooner had they sat down than Little Seven delivered a stack of case files—recent incidents, all of which Liu Fei's team couldn't handle, so they’d been passed over. After dropping them off, Little Seven quickly returned to her seat, avoiding further interaction with Mo Lan. Deep down, Little Seven still resented Mo Lan; her appearance had triggered all of this, and now she was always seen with An Feng.

Mo Lan paid it little mind. Bad people didn’t change overnight, nor did their consciences awaken in a day.

The topmost case involved a company boss who’d been murdered—astonishingly, in a hotel. The killer’s method was clean and efficient, a single strike to the throat. The incident had happened just last night, and already it had landed on their desk.

This boss dealt in stocks, likely surrounded by bodyguards, and yet someone managed to kill him so swiftly. What could be the motive this time? Revenge, or business rivalry?

“Which case shall we take up? Let’s visit the scene together,” An Feng said, approaching Mo Lan naturally. He leaned in slightly, one hand propped on the desk, his posture effortlessly striking.

The others watched in silence, none daring to interrupt. Little Seven, seeing this, lowered her head even further in jealousy. Why was everyone so good to Mo Lan? Little Seven had no friends here; apart from her uncle, she had no one to rely on.

“Would you like to join us?” While Little Seven was lost in her thoughts, Mo Lan and An Feng had already agreed, and now stood before her, ready to bring her along.

Though An Feng had no desire to spend time with Little Seven—she’d sabotaged his plans more than once—she had never been so blatant before. Now, it was excessive.

Little Seven shook her head. She didn’t want to accompany Mo Lan and be near An Feng. She hoped there would be only one person by An Feng’s side, and that person would be her.

Seeing Little Seven’s reluctance, Mo Lan did not press the matter; she and An Feng left together. After they departed, not a soul dared to gossip, for Little Seven remained. She glanced at those who seemed about to whisper, then returned to her work.

Early that morning, Qian Yin and Coldblooded had taken the car to North Academy. The headmaster, hearing that Bai Bai’s friends had arrived, personally came to greet them, even calling the headmaster’s wife to bring Bai Bai over.

Bai Bai was now in second grade at a prestigious academy, where she was picked up and dropped off by the headmaster’s wife every day. Unfortunately, it was during class hours.

“I’m terribly sorry to trouble you—I've missed Bai Bai so much lately, I couldn’t help but visit,” Qian Yin said politely. After all, these were Bai Bai’s future parents; she ought to treat them well.

“No trouble at all. Bai Bai’s in class, but her mother is on her way to fetch her. Please, wait in the office a moment—she’ll be here soon,” the headmaster replied warmly.

The headmaster was a striking man, tall and upright in his thirties or forties, with a neatly trimmed beard and black-rimmed glasses. There was a softness to his features—a gentle demeanor, gleaming white teeth, and a beard neither too long nor too short.

Seeing Bai Bai’s father, Qian Yin was delighted; he must be a kind man. Even though the headmaster’s wife could not bear children, he remained understanding—a sign of true love.

Coldblooded remained silent, observing their conversation. Today, he was merely an escort, his duty to protect Qian Yin and ensure her happiness.

They’d barely finished a cup of tea when the headmaster’s wife arrived with Su Bai Bai. She was clearly pleased to see Qian Yin and Coldblooded; she knew Bai Bai had missed them, especially after receiving their last gift.

“It’s such a pleasure to have you visit from so far away. Here’s Bai Bai,” the headmaster’s wife said, her manner gentle and magnanimous—qualities rare in most women. To have such a marriage was truly a blessing; perhaps Bai Bai was a gift from the heavens.

“You’re too kind. Bai Bai, come here,” Qian Yin said, opening her arms for a bear hug.

Bai Bai, a well-mannered child, understood Qian Yin’s status. Her presence, and not that of Sister Mo Lan, meant something important was at hand—something concerning herself.

Bai Bai stepped forward for the embrace, then smiled, “Sister Qian Yin, shall we talk outside?”

Qian Yin glanced at the two adults, who nodded their consent. She then led Bai Bai out, with Coldblooded following as a matter of course.

Bai Bai was well acquainted with the campus. After winding through several paths, they arrived at a secluded garden. Since it was class time, the space was empty and quiet—perfect for conversation.

“Sister Qian Yin, what brings you here?” Bai Bai asked directly before Qian Yin could speak.