Under the Skin · Conversa

The lights of the Beijiang Police Station turn on one by one, like a lighthouse that never sleeps. Du Cheng casually drapes his police jacket over the back of his chair, unbuttoning his collar—his standard posture when entering combat mode. On his desk, the old photograph of Lei Yifei is slightly frayed from time, yet it glows warmly under the light, just like the torch that has never gone out over the past seven years. At the end of the corridor, Shen Yi pushes the door open and walks in. His canvas bag is slung across his shoulder, and he pinches an unformed piece of plasticine in his hand. He sits down quietly, his gaze sweeping over the dense case clues on the whiteboard. His paintbrush spins unconsciously between his fingers, as if waiting for a certain face to emerge from the chaos. Jiang Feng is the last to rush in, breathlessly putting down a stack of takeout food, his sneakers making a cheerful squeaking sound on the floor. Opposite him, Li Han has already pulled up the database interface. The blue light from the computer screen reflects off her vibrant nail art as she types, her keystrokes concealing an answer waiting to be solved. Everyone is waiting. Waiting for the next portrait. Waiting for the next dawn. Waiting for that moment they all know is coming— Finally, Shen Yi stops spinning his brush and looks up at Du Cheng: "Let's begin." And so, another dark night in this city finds the starting point of its dispersion. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>