[Cloud City · Starry Night Detective Agency]
When he returned to the agency, Xie Qingyan was already there.
He sat on the sofa, the coffee table before him spread with a pile of materials—handwritten notes, printed spreadsheets, and several documents brought back from the police station. Hearing the door, he looked up.
"You're back?"
Yin Wuwang's footsteps faltered.
Xie Qingyan sat right there, the setting sun slanting in through the window, coating him in a faint golden hue. His eyes were clear, like pools of spring water, and right now they were looking directly at him.
Yin Wuwang suddenly thought of the pickup slip in his pocket.
Fuguang. Engraving: Fuguang.
His heartbeat inexplicably quickened. He hastily averted his gaze, pretending to look elsewhere: "Mm, I'm back."
Xie Qingyan noticed something was off about his reaction. Yin Wuwang was usually carefree and unguarded, speaking without restraint, his gaze direct—when he wanted to look, he looked, never dodging. But just now, he had clearly avoided meeting his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Xie Qingyan asked.
"Nothing." Yin Wuwang walked quickly to the sofa and plopped down, casually picking up the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. A variety show popped up on screen, several people talking and laughing loudly, noisy and chaotic.
He stared at the TV screen without blinking, as if that boring program were the most fascinating thing in the world.
Xie Qingyan watched his profile, thoughtful.
What was this man hiding?
Since entering this world, he and Yin Wuwang had spent day and night together, and he'd come to understand him much better than in the cultivation world. This person couldn't hide his thoughts—happy, he laughed; angry, he cursed; if he liked something, he just took it; if he disliked someone, he just hit them. He was never like this—restless, gaze evasive, clearly with something to say but not saying it.
"Where did you go today?" Xie Qingyan asked, tone casual, like idle chat.
"Nowhere." Yin Wuwang's eyes remained glued to the TV. "Just wandered around outside."
"See anything interesting?"
"Nothing." His voice came out stiff. "The streets in this city are too noisy. This sovereign isn't used to it."
Xie Qingyan said nothing, just watched him quietly.
That gaze rested on him like a thin needle—not painful, but making him uncomfortable all over. His fingers tightened on the remote as he pretended to concentrate, pressing buttons and flipping through channels.
The TV jumped from the variety show to a news broadcast, then from the news to a shopping channel. A woman was enthusiastically hawking a frying pan, her voice sharp and piercing, giving him a headache.
Xie Qingyan's gaze moved from Yin Wuwang's face to the hand holding the remote, then to his slightly stiff shoulders.
Interesting.
Yin Wuwang had definitely encountered something when he went out today. And this thing was related to himself—otherwise he wouldn't have suddenly become so unnatural upon seeing him.
What was it?
Xie Qingyan filed away this question in his mind. The case was important, but the anomaly in the person before him couldn't be ignored either. He decided to spare some attention from the complex clues to see what exactly Yin Wuwang was hiding from him.
"Captain Lin has news." He spoke up, steering the topic back to business.
Yin Wuwang seemed to grab onto a lifeline, quickly turning his head, tone carrying a hint of urgency. "What news?"
Xie Qingyan noticed his head turned too fast—too fast for mere curiosity, more like he was escaping something. But he didn't call it out, simply setting down the documents. "Found some interesting things. About Chen Wan's background."
"What background?"
Xie Qingyan considered for a moment. "It's a bit complicated. I'll explain when all the information is gathered." He stood up. "Let's rest early today."
"Who are we meeting?"
"Someone who might know about Chen Wan's past. You'll find out when we get there."
Looking at his expression, Yin Wuwang knew he wasn't deliberately being mysterious—this matter genuinely needed sorting out before it could be explained clearly. He nodded. "Alright."
Xie Qingyan turned and walked toward the kitchen to boil water for tea. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and glanced back at Yin Wuwang.
Yin Wuwang was staring blankly at the TV, but his eyes were empty—clearly not taking anything in. One of his hands unconsciously pressed against his chest, as if checking whether something was still there.
His chest?
Xie Qingyan's gaze lingered on that spot for a second, then he casually turned back and continued toward the kitchen.
Yin Wuwang had bought something today and hidden it in the pocket over his chest. That thing was making him uneasy, making him afraid to meet his eyes, making him restless.
What was it?
Xie Qingyan pondered without showing any sign. He had always been skilled at observation, skilled at deducing truth from subtle clues. Now he had two puzzles on his hands—one was Chen Wan's case, the other was Yin Wuwang's secret.
The former concerned justice. The latter concerned...
He wasn't sure. But he had a feeling that Yin Wuwang's secret might have something to do with himself.
"Get some rest early." His voice came from the kitchen. "Tomorrow might be busy."
"Mm." Yin Wuwang's voice was somewhat hoarse.
[City Center Luxury Apartment · Night]
Late at night, Xie Qingyan had already retired to his room. Yin Wuwang had no desire to sleep. He sat alone on the living room sofa, clutching that pickup slip in his hand.
Outside the apartment's floor-to-ceiling windows was the city's night view, scattered points of luminescence distributed across the darkness like an overturned galaxy. This world had no spiritual energy, but the nighttime city had its own kind of beauty—after the clamor faded, only the occasional distant car sounds remained and the faint flickering of neon signs.
Yin Wuwang held the pickup slip up to his eyes, using the glow filtering through the window to read the words—"Engraving: Fuguang." Three thousand years ago, he'd lain dying in the snow, and it was this name that pulled him back from the edge of death. He'd silently recited this name through countless unbearable nights, like some voiceless prayer. Now this name would be engraved on a ring, lying in some jewelry store in the mortal world, waiting for him to pick it up.
He imagined giving the ring to Xie Qingyan. What would he even say? "This sovereign bought this, wear it"? Too blunt. "Mortals say wearing this means being together forever, this sovereign thinks... you could try it"? Too strange. "This sovereign has waited three thousand years, and now I want to..." Want what? He couldn't even articulate what he wanted.
Earlier at the detective agency, the way Xie Qingyan had looked at him made him feel terribly guilty. That guy was too perceptive—he must have noticed something. But confessing was out of the question. If Fuguang asked about it, how would he explain?
"This sovereign just thought they looked nice, bought them on a whim"? Xie Qingyan definitely wouldn't buy that.
"This sovereign wants to give them to you"? Too direct. The words would never make it past his lips.
Yin Wuwang put the pickup slip back in his pocket, leaned back against the sofa, and closed his eyes. Forget it. When the time comes, I'll know what to say.
Right now, the most important thing was solving the case—finding that mysterious woman, figuring out why she wanted to kill Chen Wan.
As for the rings—that could wait until after this world ended. Anyway, he'd already taken the first step. So the moment of embracing Fuguang couldn't be far away.
At the same time, in the room next door, Xie Qingyan wasn't asleep either.
He stood by the window, looking at the night view outside. The outlines of tall buildings were faintly visible in the darkness, distant neon signs flickering on and off like eyes the city refused to close.
A sliver of faint luminescence seeped through the crack under the door—the living room was still lit. Faintly, he could still hear the soft creak of sofa leather, occasionally punctuated by a sigh or two.
It seemed Yin Wuwang still wasn't asleep.
Xie Qingyan recalled Yin Wuwang's reactions today—the evasive gaze, the stiff movements, the hand unconsciously pressing against his chest. That spot should be his inner pocket. He'd bought something, hidden it there, and didn't want him to know.
What was it?
Xie Qingyan considered many possibilities, but none of them made sense. Yin Wuwang wasn't the type to hide things—he was always straightforward, saying whatever was on his mind. Whatever could make him this secretive must be something very special.
And that thing very likely had something to do with himself.
Otherwise he wouldn't have suddenly become so unnatural upon seeing him.
Xie Qingyan closed his eyes, deciding to temporarily keep this question in his heart. If Yin Wuwang didn't want to say, he wouldn't ask. But he would pay attention, observe, and wait.
Wait until that person was ready to speak.
Another soft sigh came from the living room, followed by the sound of sofa springs—Yin Wuwang had probably shifted positions.
Xie Qingyan shook his head slightly and turned back toward the bed.
There was much to do tomorrow. Meet that creditor, ask about Chen Wan's affairs.
As for Yin Wuwang's secret—he'd find out sooner or later.
Outside the window, neon flickered on and off in the night. The night was quiet, with only the occasional distant car sounds, like the breathing of this city.
Two people, separated by a wall, each with their own thoughts, neither asleep.
[End of V2_Chapter 21]
Next: Meeting the creditor—what debts did Chen Wan leave behind?