Shen Yanxing was not a dull man; he had long noticed Jiang Zhilin’s unusual attention over the past few days.

At first, he merely stayed on guard, classifying the man as a “troublesome customer.”
But gradually, he realized Jiang Zhilin’s gaze was different—it wasn’t the greedy look of a hunter sizing up prey, nor a casual flirtation.
It was more like… an investigation, a watchful observation with a clear purpose behind it.

That realization annoyed Shen Yanxing.
He disliked being watched, especially by eyes that carried intent.

Customers came and went in his shop; he had seen countless faces, including many with dubious motives.
Those people were either thrill-seekers or opportunists, and he knew how to deal with them—never worth a second thought.

But Jiang Zhilin was different.

His eyes were too calm, holding a professional sort of scrutiny—devoid of malice, yet also stripped of the usual human desire.

What was stranger still was the subtle discord between his words and his demeanor.
He spoke as if probing for information, yet acted as if nothing were amiss.

People like that were the most troublesome.

So, Shen Yanxing took some time to dig into Jiang Zhilin’s background through his own channels.

—Name: Jiang Zhilin, male, 25 years old, height 183 cm, weight 73 kg.

At first glance, nothing seemed unusual about these basic details.
But when his eyes fell on the “Occupation” field, his finger paused instinctively.

—Occupation: Police Officer (Criminal Investigation Division).

His brows furrowed slightly, a faint sense of foreboding rising in his chest.
The more he read, the more troublesome it seemed.

—Education: Police Academy graduate, excellent academic record; received A or higher in marksmanship and physical training.
—Specialties: Close-quarters combat, counter-surveillance, and psychological offense and defense.

Definitely not an ordinary man.

His record at the academy was nearly flawless, and those specialties—close-quarters combat, counter-surveillance, and psychological offense and defense—alone were enough to mark him as a formidable opponent.

This wasn’t just a regular cop.
He was the kind who could walk straight into a crime scene and handle the mess himself.

Continue reading.

—Experience:
・Age 21: Cracked down on an illegal gambling ring; successfully infiltrated the organization, seized a massive amount of betting funds, and brought down the ringleader and his entire operation.
・Age 22: Assisted in dismantling a major drug trafficking network; went undercover for six months, drew out key figures behind the trade, and participated in the final raid that led to the group’s collapse.
・Age 23: Tracked a human-trafficking case; remained undercover for an extended period, uncovering an entire trafficking network. The case made national headlines and triggered the downfall of multiple related organizations.
・Age 24: Took charge of an international smuggling case; reportedly confronted black-market forces overseas. Known for his decisiveness—was injured during the operation but completed the mission nonetheless.

He stared at the file, fingers tapping the tabletop in an unconscious rhythm.

—This man wasn’t just a cop.
—He was the kind with obsession in his bones, the dangerous kind that never lets go.

And yet, someone like that had been showing up at his shop these past few days—acting so casual, so utterly at ease?

That alone was enough to raise every alarm.

What mattered more was what the records revealed: Jiang Zhilin wasn’t just a regular investigator, but the type who could go undercover for months, dismantling an organization piece by piece.

He didn’t just know how to dig out secrets—he knew how to disappear, how to win people’s trust, how to make them unknowingly move to his rhythm.

Shen Yanxing narrowed his eyes slightly, recalling their recent encounters.

Jiang Zhilin hadn’t done anything overt.
He always smiled, spoke with ease, his words laced with teasing, just like any other customer.

But looking back now—

How much of what he said had been a probe?
And how much of those glances had been quiet observation?

Shen closed the file, his expression darkening.

What if the man was here for him?
What if he’d already been marked?

How should he respond—
pretend nothing’s wrong and keep watching,
or set a trap to test the man’s limits?

A cool breeze drifted in, taking the heavy air and mixed odors with it.

Shen Yanxing had just finished his shift and was about to head out on foot when a man reeking of alcohol staggered out from the corner and blocked his way.

The man was clearly drunk—swaying as he reached out to grab him. “Hey, brother… have a drink with me…”

Shen frowned, stepping aside with irritation.
“Move.”

But the drunk clung to him stubbornly, refusing to let go.

Just as Shen was about to act, a low, steady voice came from the side—

“He’s not drinking. Get lost.”

A long arm came between them, shielding Shen from the drunk.

Shen paused, turning to see Jiang Zhilin standing beside him—his gaze cold, his tone cutting and unyielding.

The drunk froze under that gaze, muttered a few slurred complaints, and finally stumbled off unwillingly.

The street fell silent once more.

Shen Yanxing snapped out of it, his gaze settling on Jiang Zhilin.

“Why are you here?”

“Just passing by.”

Jiang shrugged, his tone easy.
“Saw you getting hassled, so I figured I’d lend a hand.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Oh?” Jiang raised an eyebrow.
“Funny, you did freeze up for a second. Almost got caught there.”

Shen hesitated for a moment.

He had to admit—it was true.
There had been that brief pause.
Not because he was afraid, but because… when Jiang had stepped in front of him, speaking with that matter-of-fact protectiveness, he’d felt—if only for a second—as if the man were shielding him.

The feeling was unfamiliar. And dangerous.

“I said I don’t need it,” he replied, voice low and cool.

“No problem,” Jiang said lightly, a faint, careless smile at the edge of his tone.

Shen Yanxing’s gaze darkened slightly.

He had never liked that kind of attitude—too natural, too confident, as if his refusal didn’t matter, as if no matter what he said, the other could always find another reason to stay close.

“I don’t need it. I can go back myself.”

Shifting his stance, Shen Yanxing was already set to leave.

“It’s late,” Jiang Zhilin said. “Not safe.”

Instead of stepping forward or blocking the way, he simply stood there, a quiet certainty in his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Let me walk you home.”

“Not safe?” Shen Yanxing arched a brow.
“What do you think I am—someone who needs protection?”

“Of course not.”

Jiang smiled faintly, his tone matter-of-fact.
“But it’s safer for two than one, isn’t it?”

Shen finally stopped, his gaze cold.
“We’re not close.”

The words came sharp, almost a dismissal.

Yet Jiang only sighed softly, as though he had expected the answer; even the hint of amusement in his eyes didn’t fade.

“True, we’re not. But that has nothing to do with me walking you home.”

Shen’s eyes cooled further.
“Do you always cling to people like this?”

“Cling?”

Jiang gave a low chuckle, the corner of his mouth tilting.
“You make it sound like I’m doing something terrible.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t need it,” Shen said flatly.
“So please—go.”

He didn’t wait for a reply.
Turning away, he disappeared into the night.

Jiang watched his back recede, didn’t follow—only turned his head slightly, eyes deep and unreadable.

This man clearly wasn’t someone easy to approach.

—And yet, that was precisely why he wanted to get closer.

Jiang Zhilin stood where he was, tapping the edge of his cigarette pack with a finger but not lighting one.

Provoking Shen Yanxing had never been his intention—yet somehow, every bit of resistance from the man only made him want to push one step further.

Was it that night’s closeness that left him with a lingering obsession?
Or Shen’s indifference, stirring a stubborn need to win?

Hard to say.

He’d thought it was nothing more than a trivial connection.
Now, though—unexpectedly—he didn’t want to just let it go.