Police Station
His words were utterly audacious, yet the young officer responded eagerly, as if it were only natural: “No problem. Creating a fake video with illusion magic is easy. I’ll prepare it for you.”
Lu Congxing hesitated for a moment. “Isn’t this illegal?”
He couldn’t help but wonder if his guardian demon had coerced a righteous officer of the law.
Eager to impress the cub, the officer straightened his back and said proudly, “This is covered under a contract signed with the human authorities. If there’s something about us demons that shouldn’t be exposed to the public, we can use illusion magic to conceal it.”
Lu Congxing hadn’t expected demons to have such a convenient privilege.
Lu Congxing tilted his head curiously. “You don’t suspect me?”
He and Bai Ze had suddenly appeared in this apartment building that didn’t match their identities. After staying for a few days, an incident occurred. Under normal circumstances, suspicion would be expected.
Yet the young officer reacted as if he had just heard something utterly absurd. His eyes widened in shock before he quickly became aggrieved. “How could I suspect a cub?”
Even his spiritual ears drooped—not out of fear this time, but because he worried that the cub disliked him.
Facing those sad, disappointed eyes, Lu Congxing suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of guilt.
Anyone who didn’t know better would think he had said something truly offensive.
It seemed that demons had an extreme bias when it came to protecting the cub—double standards and all. No matter how suspicious he appeared, they simply refused to doubt him.
Wanting to ease the officer’s sadness, Lu Congxing quickly changed the subject. “I wonder what the recovered body parts look like.”
He had only made a casual remark, but the young officer’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Do you want to see them?”
Feeling useful again, he was overjoyed—the cub didn’t dislike him after all!
Lu Congxing was dumbfounded. “Huh? I can go see them?”
Raised under human education, he had never imagined that demons had such privileges.
The young officer nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! As long as you want to!”
But He Zhouyan’s spiritual energy suddenly grew heavier, his gaze dark and brooding as he swept a glance at the excited officer.
Soon, he suppressed his emotions and spoke in a low voice. “A single phone call could solve this. Why would you need to ask someone else for help?”
The implication was clear: You didn’t think to ask me?
No matter how well he hid it, Lu Congxing instantly sensed that his guardian demon was upset again.
Was He Zhouyan unhappy because he had sought help from a newly acquainted demon instead of him?
Lu Congxing didn’t want to assume He Zhouyan was that childish, but his instincts told him otherwise.
“It’s not that—I just didn’t know you could help with human police matters too,” Lu Congxing quickly tried to appease him. “If I had known, I definitely would’ve asked you first.”
Hearing this, He Zhouyan’s expression softened slightly—but before long, he grew irritated again.
So the cub thinks I’m only good at business?
To prove his influence in human society, He Zhouyan immediately pulled out his phone and made a quick call.
Within moments, he hung up.
Expressionless, he said, “It’s done.”
If there had been another observer present, they would have instantly recognized his behavior as identical to that of a male animal in the wild flaunting his strength to attract a mate.
Unfortunately, the only other witness was still petrified from Bai Ze’s earlier glare and completely missed the subtle tension.
Lu Congxing, for some reason, was also strangely oblivious. He simply exclaimed in admiration, “That’s amazing!”
He had no idea how He Zhouyan managed it, but appeasing him first seemed like the safest move.
In his mind, he imagined a small Bai Ze puffing up in anger after being underestimated. Through this lens, He Zhouyan suddenly seemed rather adorable.
He Zhouyan lowered his gaze, his irritation completely soothed.
Now the cub should know to come to me for help in the future.
The two of them were clearly not on the same wavelength at all—yet somehow, the atmosphere remained perfectly harmonious.
. . . . .
After regained his senses, the young officer realized that his chance to impress the cub had already been snatched away by Bai Ze.
Yet, he didn’t dare to complain. Instead, he obediently finished taking notes and quietly left the room.
Outside, the lead officer had seemingly received a call from higher-ups. When He Zhouyan approached, the officer’s demeanor was noticeably respectful as he asked, “Mr. He, would you like to come with us to the station now?”
He Zhouyan had intended to refuse—he had just checked his watch, and it was almost time for the cub to rest.
But when he glanced to the side and saw Lu Congxing’s bright, eager eyes, the words in his mouth took a turn. Instead of rejecting, he gave a cool nod.
And so, they got into the police car alongside the officers. With them was Zhou Zijie, who, as Chen Fei’s closest associate, had to provide a detailed statement at the station.
Those left behind exchanged bewildered glances. They couldn’t understand why a single phone call had caused the police’s attitude toward their new tenant to shift so dramatically—as if he were some high-profile expert brought in at great expense to assist in the investigation.
But anyone with half a brain could tell that their new neighbor was far from ordinary.
Since Zhou Zijie wasn’t in the same police car as them, she didn’t get a chance to talk to them.
Upon arriving at the station, they were immediately led to where Chen Fei’s severed arm was being stored.
The young officer followed them, trailing behind Lu Congxing with longing eyes. However, because Bai Ze was present, he didn’t dare get too close. Even just being near enough to absorb a little of the cub’s pure spiritual energy was enough to satisfy him.
Inside the police station, Lu Congxing finally got a look at the severed arm.
His gaze was so clear and innocent that the forensic examiner—a woman in a white lab coat—snapped in frustration, “Why are you bringing a student to a place like this?”
The sight of a freshly severed, blood-soaked limb was far more shocking in person than in photos. Instinctively, she moved to shield it from view.
The young officer shivered and quickly whispered something to her. Only then did the forensic examiner hesitantly step aside.
Most people would show at least some fear or discomfort in front of such a gruesome sight. But Lu Congxing’s delicate face remained perfectly neutral, showing no reaction at all.
His gaze on the severed arm was as calm as if he were looking at a large, peeled radish.
Then, he politely asked, “May I take a closer look?”
The forensic examiner gave him a complicated look before nodding.
Lu Congxing stepped forward, and for the first time, his face showed a hint of expression—pure curiosity.
The cut on the arm was uneven, as if it had been sawed off rather than cleanly severed. The perpetrator didn’t seem to have much strength, making the sawing process laborious. If the victim had still been alive at the time, they likely suffered immense pain.
Chen Fei was at least a security guard for the internet cafe. The fact that he was killed within just a few hours by someone who wasn’t particularly strong suggested that it was likely someone he knew.
This could only have happened because he had no guard up against that person.
If the killer was someone from the apartment building, then Chen Fei had encountered quite a few people around 10:00 AM. If the murderer was among them, it would have been impossible for them to dispose of the body parts too far away.
Lu Congxing said, “I think you should increase the search efforts within the residential complex.”
As soon as he spoke, there was an inexplicable sense of gravity in his tone. Unlike He Zhouyan, who had a naturally convincing presence, Lu Congxing’s words were more like a gentle spring rain—subtle yet capable of making people take them to heart.
The police had no intention of underestimating him. They nodded and said, “We already have officers conducting a thorough search of the area.”
Just as the words left their mouth, a rapid knock came at the door. A voice spoke urgently and quickly, “We’ve found another part of the victim’s body!”
The officer cautiously placed a sealed evidence bag on the table.
Lu Congxing immediately abandoned the severed arm he had been examining and walked over to take a look. This time, what had been recovered was a fully intact thigh.
He turned to the search officer who had rushed over. “Where was this found?”
The officer, too preoccupied to wonder who Lu Congxing was, quickly answered, “It was buried in the greenery of the victim’s residential complex, wrapped in a black plastic bag just like the severed arm.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he realized he might have overstepped and glanced nervously at his captain. Seeing that there was no reprimand, he sighed in relief.
Lu Congxing’s gaze landed on the thigh. His expression remained entirely void of fear, as if he were looking at a cut of pork at the market.
He had seen far too many ghosts with bizarre deaths—something like this couldn’t faze him. If anything, he had the urge to touch it for closer examination.
Compared to the severed arm, the condition of this thigh was even more gruesome. There were distinct ligature marks, and the flesh near the cut was mangled, the wounds extending across a large area.
It seemed like the killer had experimented with different angles while deciding where to make the cut. Just looking at the jagged wounds left by a serrated blade was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.
Some of the less experienced officers instinctively touched their own thighs, suddenly feeling a phantom ache in the same spot.
Lu Congxing asked, “When you found it, was it buried shallowly?”
The officer blinked in surprise. “Yeah, how did you know?”
Another officer smacked him on the head lightly. “The killer isn’t that strong and didn’t have much time. They still had to hide the body parts, so of course they wouldn’t have the luxury of digging a deep hole.”
Lu Congxing nodded. That analysis was exactly what he had been thinking—these officers were indeed professionals.
He also believed that the killer had dealt with similar cases before, meaning this wasn’t their first crime. The execution wasn’t particularly skilled, but there was a clear level of familiarity in the way the body was handled.
The lead officer, growing more serious, pressed, “What about the other body parts? Still nothing?”
If a severed arm alone wasn’t enough to confirm death, the thigh almost certainly sealed the victim’s fate—no one could survive such extreme mutilation.
The search officer shook his head with a hint of guilt. “Not yet…”
A sudden thought struck Lu Congxing, and he sharply lifted his head. “You should search inside the apartment building.”
Most of the units in the building were vacant. That would make it an ideal place for the murderer to hide the body.
The search team was stunned for a moment before realization dawned on them—they had completely overlooked the fact that this was an old, largely unoccupied building.
With poorly secured doors and windows, any of the abandoned units could serve as a convenient hiding spot.
The officers wasted no time and sprinted off, one of them even shouting back, “Thanks!”
He Zhouyan had been silently watching the young man’s calm and decisive actions the entire time. Once again, he felt an uncontrollable, intense heartbeat.
It was the same feeling he had when he saw Lu Congxing eradicate the starving ghost in the underground cave.
Back then, the blue flames had made his heart race. But now, even without them, he still felt as if he had been seared by something—his eyes gradually darkening.
Author’s note:
He Zhou: becoming a total simp.jpg