Yan sat at her desk, chin resting on her hands.
Had the world forgotten about her and Jue Jue?
Or had so halo-wielding figure cast a grand oblivion spell on them?
Otherwise, why did it feel like everything had already happened—like everyone else knew, while only the two of them were left in the dark?
This couldn’t just be her imagination, right?
Had she and Jue Jue really not lost their mories?
If Officer Zheng Yi had actually sent them money, should they accept it or not?
"If ten thousand bushels of grain were offered to without regard to propriety or justice, what would they an to ?"
Yan sighed deeply. Well, the boat would straighten itself when it reached the bridge. She’d deal with this headache later—worst case, she could just donate it.
The only case on campus lately was the printing shop incident. But if she combed through her mories again, the only thing connecting her, Jue Jue, and Officer Zheng Yi was the matter involving Senior He Xing.
But she hadn’t even ntioned it yet!
Could Officer Zheng Yi have figured out Senior He Xing’s situation just from a brief encounter last night?
Or was it her sharp "justice halo"—did she look up the na as soon as she heard it?
Eliminating all other possibilities, the remaining answer, no matter how bizarre, seed to be the truth.
After all, halo-wielders couldn’t be judged by ordinary logic, could they?
Yan had initially dismissed this possibility because she hadn’t brought it up to Officer Zheng Yi herself.
Now, she realized she’d fallen into a ntal blind spot.
She patted her head—habitual thinking was terrifying.
Before this, figures like Bing Bing, Yi Zhi, and Chu Shen had straightforward, easily understandable halos with direct effects. And with Officer Zheng Yi’s official status, Yan had overlooked the fact that she, too, possessed a unique halo.
Maybe Officer Zheng Yi had "Eyes of Justice," capable of discerning truth and falsehood at a glance.
It made sense—she’d heard of veteran officers spotting pickpockets in train stations with just a look.
Her brain had nearly hit a dead end, but thankfully, she had a habit of self-reflection.
Once she figured it out, Yan sent a ssage to Jue Jue.
A while later, she changed into pajamas and climbed into bed.
The past two days had drained her ntally—she needed to recharge.
Why did the start of this sester feel just as dramatic as the beginning of the last one? And now the stakes were even higher!
Last sester, she’d been dragged into the entertainnt industry. This sester, she’d been kicked straight into the GA world.
Yan quietly opened a video platform and navigated to her favorite creator—Travel Kaka.
Perhaps because of the New Year, Kaka had stopped updating since posting her Lunar New Year’s Eve video, though she’d announced she was taking a break.
Fans were eager for new content but understood—after a year of constant travel to remote locations, both body and mind needed a long rest. Plus, winter made travel difficult.
The Mianyang rice noodles Kaka had sent Yan were gone within a week of arriving. With so many at ho wanting to try them, that was actually a slow pace of consumption.
With no new updates, Yan decided to rewatch Kaka’s Inner Mongolia episode—her Nth ti doing so.
When ntally exhausted, a beautifully shot travel video was her way of unwinding.
Kaka had that effect—just seeing her ssages made Yan smile, her mood instantly lighter.
If she and Jue Jue were fated to keep crossing paths with halo-wielders, stumbling into stories (or mishaps), then monts like these—chatting with Kaka or watching her videos—were their sanctuary, offering warmth and healing.
Yan had thought about it before. If Officer Zheng Yi’s halo brought "justice," then perhaps Travel Kaka’s was like a gentle, enduring breeze, soothing the minds of her viewers, restoring their energy, and healing their fatigue.
Yan loved this segnt—the vast grasslands, the starry night sky, the endless horizon. Under that expanse, worries seed to fade away.
Without realizing it, Yan drifted off to sleep while watching.
Gu Jiasui received Zhu Jue’s WeChat ssage and quietly climbed up to Yan’s bunk, slipping her phone under the pillow. She could hear Yan’s steady, sleeping breaths.
Yan’s upper half slept peacefully—lying on her back, her delicate face frad by long lashes, her youthful cheeks tempting soone to poke them.
Her lower half, however, was less obedient. One leg had kicked free of the blanket, and Gu Jiasui carefully tucked it back in before climbing down, making as little noise as possible.
Once downstairs, she noticed the other roommates looking her way and mouthed, "She’s asleep," pressing a finger to her lips.
Ding Ling turned off the main light, and even Senior He Xing joined them in switching to the group chat.
[Chu Bingbing]: "Yan’s asleep already? Did she have a lot of classes today?"
Before Gu Jiasui could reply, Ding Ling sent a ssage first.
[Ding Ling]: "It’s just the start of the sester—lots to handle. Must be tired."
Ding Ling had returned to the dorm earlier than usual. Though coursework wasn’t heavy yet, she was still diligently patrolling the campus.
During her usual et-up with Senior Shen Hui, the latter had launched into a rapid-fire account of last night’s events—how a "great rit" individual had co to apprehend a spy, along with ntions of eting these two figures and their equally ritorious friend.
Having been in the special cases unit for so long, Ding Ling’s first thought at "great rit" was the head of the cold case division.
Thanks to the Xie Family case and covering for Yan and the others, she’d already had dealings with them.
So she sent a ssage to confirm and received a simple "Yes" in response.
They belonged to different systems, so Ding Ling didn’t pry further.
Whatever else was going on, since Yan and Zhu Jue were aware, there must be arrangents in place—no need for her to worry.
Yan falling asleep so early tonight might’ve been due to exhausting whatever limited abilities she had left exposed.
Gu Jiasui sent Zhu Jue a brief reply, letting him know Yan was asleep, then ssaged Wu Jiu as well.
As she glanced at the script files saved in her phone, she rubbed her temples.
Ever since "The Years of National Treasures" aired, her studio had been flooded with offers for roles like princesses, noblewon, and young mistresses—minor supporting characters, all cut from the sa cloth.
She had little interest in these repetitive roles. Besides, Bin University wasn’t a film or drama school—she didn’t have the ti or the leeway to take long leaves for filming. A cao or two, though, was manageable.
Acting—being an actor—was indeed an interesting profession, one that allowed you to experience different lives. Gu Jiasui was gradually discovering the joy in it, especially for soone like her. Whether in modern or recent settings, even a small role, a brief character bio, or a glimpse into a profession and its experiences helped her slowly familiarize herself with and integrate into this world. It also deepened her understanding of certain aspects of modern society.
Gu Jiasui had settled on two guest roles and was replying to ssages. anwhile, Yi Zhi rubbed his temples while staring at the farm managent app that had crashed imdiately after launch. Chu Bingbing had already booked a business-class ticket to Ning City for the weekend. Ding Ling scrolled through tasks on her phone, while He Xing quietly browsed dance performance reviews on social dia, headphones on as she watched Fu Yao’s recent performances. In Room 320, the girls went about their own business in silence—except for Yan, who was fast asleep.
A week could pass both quickly and slowly at the sa ti.
Before they knew it, Friday arrived. Yan accompanied Jue Jue to the last class of the day at the dical school, after which Jue Jue handed her backpack to Brother Xiao. The two then grabbed their own pre-packed bags and hurried toward the school’s main gate to catch the subway.
Yan sent ssages to Senior He Xing and Officer Zheng Yi, letting them know she was on her way.
Officer Zheng Yi’s reply was, as usual, succinct: "See you at the theater."
Senior He Xing sent back a photo—a small crowd already forming outside the theater, along with theatergoers exchanging fan-made rchandise.
Yan’s eyelid twitched. Senior He Xing had arrived way too early—two hours before the 7 p.m. performance. Was she planning to ambush soone?
Surely… she wouldn’t go that far, right?
Yan quickly sent another ssage to Officer Zheng Yi, asking when she’d arrive.
The reply ca instantly:
[Zheng Yi]: "Already here."
Yan blinked. Damn, Officer Zheng Yi was always impressively efficient.
Outside Bin City Grand Theater, Zheng Yi—dressed in casual clothes—easily spotted He Xing thanks to her keen observational skills.
He Xing stood out in the crowd, her petite fra, delicate features, and fair complexion drawing attention even in her black down jacket and pants.
As Zheng Yi approached, she overheard a young girl gushing at He Xing with starry eyes.
"Miss, are you an actress?"
"Are you from a local dance troupe in Bin City? Or maybe a dance teacher?"
Zheng Yi heard He Xing’s calm response.
"Not an actress. I’m here to watch the performance."
"My na is He Xing. I’m a dancer."
Hands in her pockets, Zheng Yi chuckled softly. Good—she still rembered to introduce herself as a dancer.
She waited patiently for the excited fans to leave before stepping forward. He Xing seed montarily surprised to see her.
"Miss Zheng," He Xing greeted first.
Zheng Yi extended a hand, her ordinarily unremarkable face suddenly alight with warmth. Her gaze was intense as she smiled and said,
"Miss He, I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself properly that night."
"I’m Zheng Yi—a police officer."
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