Day and Night · Chat

Winter in Jingang is as hard as iron, and every breath exhaled carries a raw, metallic tang of rust. Guan Hongfeng stands by the window of the Changfeng Detachment, with neither a cigarette nor tea in hand. A thin layer of frost has formed on the glass, fracturing his profile into countless tiny shards. In the courtyard below, Zhou Xun stands with hands on hips, barking at someone. It doesn't matter who; what matters is that his voice is loud enough for the whole building to know—this detachment still belongs to him. Guan Hongyu is at a banquet table somewhere, glasses clinking loudly, surrounded by a motley crew of friends. He tells a joke, sending the whole table into fits of laughter, and he laughs along, carefree and oblivious, having no idea that in a few days, his name will appear on the Ministry of Public Security's Class-A Wanted list. Gao Yanan has been busy at the autopsy table all day, her white coat still clinging to the scent of formalin. She removes her mask and rubs her aching neck; the corridor is empty, save for the buzzing hum of the fluorescent lights. She picks up her phone, looks at it, and puts it back down. Liu Yin smokes in the alley behind the bar, her wavy hair cascading over her leather jacket like a bolt of dark red silk under the lights. The shop hasn't been open long, but she remembers the face of every regular. Under the streetlights, Zhou Shutong runs out of the police academy gates with her backpack. One of the straps is broken; she looks down to tug at it, not noticing the elongated shadow behind her—the shadow of Ye Fangzhou. A few days later, New Year's Eve. Before the fireworks can ascend, blood stains the ground red first. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the plot</choice> </choice_group>