At the break of dawn, while the nightlife of a handful of Hong Kong residents had yet to conclude, the streets of Sham Shui Po were already stirring awake.
Sounds of windows opening and closing, of brushing teeth and washing up flowing down the drains, traveled through windows or walls whose soundproofing was hardly reliable, reaching from one room to another.
People woke from deep dreams to face another ordinary day.
The sound of her brother returning from grocery shopping and closing the door woke Yi Jiayi, who was still groggy and could barely open her eyes, while her sister on the upper bunk sat up with a flip.
Then, the noise of her sister getting out of bed fully roused her, and opening her eyes, she saw the trailing robe of her sister and the mottled old planks of the upper bunk in the dim light.
The bunk was plastered with various posters, notes, sticky notes, and old photographs, all traces of the room’s previous occupants growing up in this space, this bed.
Yi Jiayi had been in this world for nearly a month, gradually accepting her new identity and getting accustomed to living in the tiny village house in Sham Shui Po, home to four people in less than 50 square meters.
She quickly got up, dressed, and made her bed while her sister queued for the bathroom.
“Big sister,” Yi Jiaru came in, rubbing her messy hair.
“You go back to sleep,” Yi Jiayi said as she brushed past her sister and walked out of the dim but tidy small room.
Her older brother Yi Jiadong, looking through the kitchen’s dirty glass that could no longer be cleaned, glanced at her and spoke, “You’re not thinking of cutting your hair, right? Washing hair wastes shampoo, combing wastes time, and being a policewoman still requires looking sharp.”
Yi Jiayi touched her own thick, smooth, black long hair—last life she had lost so much hair during her postgraduate studies that she had to name each hair strand. Now that she finally had such a full head of hair—
“I can’t bear to part with it,” she muttered, quickly tying her hair into a bun at the back of her head.
A policewoman…
Who would have thought? Yi Jiayi had imagined herself in any job—sales, marketing, operations, even live-stream selling. But a policewoman?
That had nothing to do with her.
And yet, after countless days and nights spent battling for her postgraduate studies, she woke up to find herself a rookie policewoman freshly graduated and assigned to a police station in Hong Kong.
After breakfast, she said goodbye to her brother, embraced the old bicycle in the hallway, and clattered down the stairs.
Unlocking the bike and mounting it, she pedaled hard with her right foot and shot out like a rocket—
Don’t blame her for riding too fast; she had her reasons.
Turning out of the alley onto Oak Street, there were simply too many friendly neighbors.
Sham Shui Po, crowded with commoners and the impoverished, was densely populated. The neighbors, long-term residents of the area, all knew each other. Every elderly person she passed greeted her without fail.
Even those engrossed in reading newspapers in the narrow alley would look up from their big characters, as if greeting a neighbor was the most important thing.
Is it more important than the billionaire gossip in local news? More important than the horrifying murders highlighted in bold headlines?
All of Hong Kong probably doesn’t know how to write the words “horror” and “terror.”
Walking through streets and alleys, Yi Jiayi occasionally looks up at the dim but overwhelming neon signs, a mark of Hong Kong’s brilliance in the 1990s.
After crossing 17 intersections, which is just over a kilometer, she safely arrives at the Yau Ma Tei Police Station in West Kowloon.
She locks her bicycle in a corner, takes a deep breath, and wipes the sweat off her forehead and nose. A deep male voice reaches her ears:
“Hey, you—”
Yi Jiayi looks in the direction of the voice. A long leg stretches out from a jeep, revealing a section of black socks beneath the trouser leg.
The man bends to get out of the car, stands up straight, and stretches, looking exceptionally tall.
He pats his rolled-up sleeves, frowns at her, and gestures her over.
Yi Jiayi notices another black sock on the man’s other ankle—this man must be from the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit, busy enough with major cases that he has no time to find a matching pair of socks.
The Major Crimes Unit, the legendary CID1CID = Criminal Investigation Department that could be the protagonist in any TV drama!
Yi Jiayi stands at attention, as obedient as a schoolgirl seeing her drill instructor.
“The office has been full of mosquitoes these days; I’m covered in bites,” the policeman says as he quickly closes the distance between them, adjusts his slightly messy short hair, and rolls up his sleeves to show her the numerous mosquito bites on his arms.
Yi Jiayi looks down and sees his slim, straight wrists, the fuzzy layer on his wheat-colored skin, the vigorous veins pulsating like rivers underneath, and his slightly bulging biceps muscles without much effort—
And he seems to like wearing half-sleeve T-shirts, with the upper arms not sunburned, making the skin on his biceps look particularly delectable.
Is this something she gets to see for free?
Her mind races wildly, but her face honestly flushes red, her heart pounding with embarrassment. Only then does she fully notice the fierce battlefield of mosquito bites on his arm.
Mosquitoes really are fierce; even on such strong arms, they show no fear.
Regaining her composure, she tries to act professionally, like giving a thesis defense, and rattles off:
“Sister Yin has already called. Today, the mosquito coils and repellent will be delivered along with the other daily necessities for the month.”
She looked up at him and asked,
“Which floor are you on? I still have half a bottle of mosquito repellent over there—”
The man seemed to have had a poor night’s sleep, his eyes shadowed with a faint dark circle, and he glanced irritably at the black-haired head before him, coincidentally catching her bright, round eyes.
How could someone have such naturally dark corners of their eyes, clean and clear like an innocent puppy.
“Alright, go on to work.” He waved his hand and gave an awkward smile, trying to appear more approachable.
But he was probably better at fighting evil than cajoling children, no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself, his fierce spirit would unconsciously seep through his expressions.
“Yes, sir!” Yi Jiayi stood at attention and responded loudly.
“…” The man twitched the corner of his lips, watching her stand at attention and then start walking with a regular pace, then he remembered something, “By the way—”
Yi Jiayi stopped abruptly and turned around.
“Under the north window, there’s been a puddle of water since the rain the day before yesterday, breeding mosquitoes. Call Sister Yin too, and find someone to clean it up.” The man strode past her.
Yi Jiayi muttered ‘yes sir~’ again, but she no longer had the enthusiasm to shout it out clearly, she could only say “okay” to his retreating back.
The man turned his head to nod at her, leaving behind just a faint scent of refreshing shampoo, and then he left with a proud stride.
Yi Jiayi wiped the non-existent sweat from her forehead, reflecting on whether her earlier performance was too exaggerated, and muttered softly, “Dropping a time-traveler who’s like a cuckoo taking over the nest into a police station, isn’t this just throwing the lamb into the tiger’s mouth…”
As the man entered the police station, he met a middle-aged military police officer who greeted him with a smile, “Fang Shazhan.”
Fang Shazhan nodded in response and then disappeared at the entrance of the station, while the middle-aged military police officer stood at the door for a few seconds before slowly stepping in, seemingly reluctant to follow Fang Shazhan too closely.
Shazhan is the team leader, transliterated as such.
The man being badly bitten by mosquitoes is a plainclothes detective captain, surnamed Fang.
Yi Jiayi racked her brain, capturing information, feeling like she was as smart as a detective herself.
Proudly carrying her own little lunch box, she hurried into the police station and headed to the changing room to switch into her uniform.
Next, I was bogged down with a day full of mundane tasks: printing materials, delivering documents for filing, finding someone to fix a broken door and a disobedient air conditioner, scanning old files to upload to the intranet, and even occasionally being sent to order and set up meals for a department team—trivial yet essential tasks.
Although these tasks might seem menial, Yi Jiayi felt a profound sense of purpose. She believed that the smooth operation of the entire police station depended on her.
Fresh out of society, young humans are always full of curiosity and enthusiasm, and Yi Jiayi was exactly in that state.
After adjusting to her new environment, she began to eagerly prepare to make a big impact in her lively new world.
By the afternoon, around three, her 44-year-old senior colleague, Lu Wanyin, took her to the window to have tea.
They had authentic Earl Grey tea, slightly bitter with a sweet aftertaste; Hong Kong-style egg tarts, crispy on the outside and soft inside, deliciously sweet; and tender lotus seeds, each bite filled with a refreshingly clean taste.
“I wonder where the trouble is now, the homicide division is bustling inside and out, and in this scorching heat, it’s really tough,” Lu Wanyin said, enjoying the air conditioning, peeling lotus seeds, and looking out the window at police cars and detectives hustling under the hot sun.
Happiness is all about comparisons.
Yi Jiayi also turned to look down, watching the detectives stride quickly, their serious shadows adding to the already sweltering air.
Fortunately, she was a clerical officer, not having to go out on the streets or deal with criminals and crime scenes.
She could just sit leisurely by the window, in an air-conditioned room, sipping tea.
Yi Jiayi rested her chin on her hands and sneakily watched Lu Wanyin, who was slowly sipping her tea, feeling immensely grateful.
It was good to have Sister Lu guide her; without her, she really wouldn’t know anything and wouldn’t have adapted so quickly.
While Yi Jiayi’s mind was filled with gratitude, the person she was grateful to, sitting across from her, suddenly gave her a sideways glance and quietly began to scheme against this trusting junior.
From where Lu Wanyin sat, she could just turn her head to see people along the corridor.
Seeing the stern-faced Lin Wangjiu hurrying over, she knew it was bad news.
Her eyes darting around, and noticing the frequent coming and going of police cars, she quickly grasped what was happening.
Without a fuss, she stood up, leaving behind a plastic folder on Yi Jiayi’s table with the words, “Jiayi, I’m just going to the restroom. If someone comes to deliver a document, just handle it as I’ve taught you,” and then swiftly slipped out through the back door.
Yi Jiayi was still overwhelmed with gratitude when Lin Wangjiu stormed in. He saw Yi Jiayi’s youthful and inexperienced face and frowned, asking, “Where’s Sister Lu?”
“She’s gone to the restroom. Are you here to deliver a document? Just give it to me,” Yi Jiayi replied obediently, covering her table filled with food and drinks with a newspaper.
Lin Wangjiu glanced at her table, saw the case files in front of her, and assumed Sister Lu had already trained her well, so he said, “Take the files and come with me.”
“? What’s the matter?”
Yi Jiayi picked up the folder, pulled out a pen, and hurriedly followed Lin Wangjiu.
The two of them crossed the corridor, clattering down the stairs. The restroom door just opened, and Sister Yin fanned away the non-existent restroom smell before leisurely heading back to the office.
The tea on the desk was still hot, and she poured herself a cup.
Sipping lightly, she ate her snacks with the newspaper, occasionally reaching out to tap the newspaper and quietly scolding, “Nonsense, what a bunch of nonsense.”
…
Yi Jiayi thought she was just going to collect documents or organize files as she followed Lin Wangjiu in circles downstairs.
It wasn’t until Lin Wangjiu handed her a mask and a head cover, leading her into an unusually different room, that she sensed something amiss.
Feeling the sudden drop in air conditioning, and seeing people in lab coats and masks, she started to realize that something was off.
Before she fully grasped what all this meant, she found herself standing in a cold, spacious room.
Around her were various medical instruments, and a few plainclothes police officers stood around with arms crossed.
Lin Wangjiu left Yi Jiayi’s side and went to a ‘hospital bed,’ whispering to the leading officer.
Yi Jiayi’s gaze quickly swept over them, then involuntarily fell on the ‘operating table’…
A bolt of lightning seemed to strike her brain as Yi Jiayi finally realized what this place was—that it was not just any hospital bed.
Before she could cover her eyes, a body, split open, was already imprinted on her retina.
Caught off guard, the young policewoman felt cold in her limbs and pale, dizzy and ringing in her ears from the shock.
Before she could react, another sound filled her ears and the image before her eyes instantly overlay the dissection room.
In that moment, Yi Jiayi froze on the spot, her soul as if transported to another world—
She heard the cries of the deceased being dissected, saw the face of the murderer, and witnessed the entire process of the murder.
…
Author’s Note:
Cases are generally brief, some inspired by real events.
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