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Jiang Ting certainly was a feat to behold. The wheelchair he once sat on and the deceivingly gentle yet rough contrast in his demeanor he talks to everyone with do nothing to remove the power in his voice, the raw roughness in his actions; the kind of power that makes you think he is more than what he shows, but for the sake of everyone’s sanity, he chooses to show half of the truth.
“There is no false testimony in this world that’s ever watertight.” He tells them, eyes never leaving the direction he walks to, mindless of the confused stares and glances he gets from the on-lookers around him. “Only investigators who aren’t observant enough.”
Yan Xie isn’t one to ponder on the obscure details of a colleague he, in all honesty, has never had the chance to be acquainted with properly. But perhaps there is something intriguing about the way Jiang Ting makes him think twice about what he does with him, something about the way he holds his gaze as though this wasn’t their first confrontation nor would it be the last, something about the way he speaks that makes you wonder whether someone like him was the type to let himself be dragged into fatal danger without any back-up plans to save himself, like how he claimed he did.
When they leave the hospital after interrogating Diao Yong and gaining sufficient evidence of Chu Ci being a victim instead of a suspect, it’s not with renewed vigor or a sudden motivation to complete this investigation as fast as they can. Yan Xie knows it’s something Jiang Ting brought upon their team the moment he decided to lend a helping hand.
This man next to him, seemingly so fragile at first, only to remove his cloak and reveal the untrimmed and thorny edges that needed to be corroded but couldn’t, no matter how hard one tries, at a moment where no outsider could be trusted — he’s someone who only has eyes for the truth. Nevermind applause or recognition, nevermind a high pay or a stable job. Jiang Ting only seeks what needs to be sought.
In this case, he seeks the truth. Yan Xie knows there is more to it, but he knows he’s not in any position to ask. Thus, he won’t probe.
“Aren’t you cold?” Yan Xie asks, mainly because he didn’t want his colleague — his partner, maybe? — to get his still-technically-weak body blown away by the strong wind, but also because after the bold statements he made earlier, jabbing at their police force’s ability, he didn’t know how to start up another conversation without tearing open any old wounds.
Jiang Ting hums, neither affirmative nor a negative. They walk silently, the chill of the evening air and the occasional sounds of honking and roaring cars providing the vague picture of a city at its darkest as a distraction for the two of them.
Yan Xie knows he’s thinking. Jiang Ting never looks as though he isn’t thinking, the only exception being the times where he finds himself stuck in a daze when confronted with heavy traffic accidents or a boisterous and messy commotion on the street, perhaps reminiscing the accident that he had gone through, an obvious effect of the trauma he gained from it, ingrained in his body like a deep carve on a stone.
So instead, before they get back to their vehicle, he asks, “What are you thinking of? Where Chu Ci could possibly be?”
Jiang Ting gives another hum, and then mildly, he says, “The possible distress signal he gave through the processes of manufacturing methamphetamine, I’ve been thinking about where it could lead us.”
‘Us’. No longer prattling about like he isn’t part of the investigation process. Yan Xie hides the smile he unconsciously feels twisting up the corners of his mouth, and looks the other way instead. Just stone walls with posters that have been ripped and covered with spray paint.
“Chu Ci knows his stuff. If anything, they could be using him to manufacture their… goods, more effectively. He could definitely still be alive.”
“Mn.”
Yan Xie inwardly sighs, but not before a sudden gust of wind knocks Jiang Ting out of his balance. The other man’s eyes widen as he almost stumbles back on his bum, arms outstretched forward as though to retaliate in force. He almost laughs. Almost. To be fair, it was a funny sight — someone so awfully stoic and serious as Jiang Ting getting all messed up by the wind, of all things.
“You should eat more. Thinking too much burns fats and calories, you know? And you need those.”
Jiang Ting glares at him, reminding Yan Xie of a cat being deprived of its food. Instead of retorting back, he takes Yan Xie’s arm and slots his arm around it. The warmth, of course, is welcome. It is a cold night, after all.
Yan Xie thinks his little partner’s mind is muddled enough to the point he resorts to holding his arm, but as all the mindless ones say, convenience even against one’s own heart is still convenience.
Jiang Ting explains slowly — how they could be holding Chu Ci hostage, how the drug-making process could be improved with Chu Ci’s knowledge of the different methods and materials that can be used, how the investigation team can handle this and that — and they walk slowly. The vehicle is not very far away now, just a few feet before they get back to their seats and drive to the station to eat dinner. Yan Xie’s treat, maybe.
Watching Jiang Ting reveal the cogs and gears of his mind, laying his thought process bare for Yan Xie to follow up with, is always a fascinating though a mentally challenging thing.
He is smart — awfully so, remembering even the tiniest bits of information that first didn’t seem to serve any use for the investigation, but later ended up to be the last puzzle piece they needed to complete the whole set. He has his godly eyes, or whatever you call the nearly outer-worldly ability of his to notice the smallest changes and the most inconspicuous details that no one else managed to find before even after numerous attempts to do so.
Jiang Ting sets something on fire inside of Yan Xie, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.
It’s a fire that tells Yan Xie he shouldn’t let his caution fade, just because Jiang Ting appears to be weak and unknowing of just how much power he holds in himself. It burns in him — the urge to interrogate Jiang Ting, to ask him the questions that have been bugging his mind as of late. How did an accident render you to this state, despite being someone who knew authority and carefulness and how to wield it? What kind of accident did it have to be for you to wind up to this point? Was it truly an accident, or was it a carefully thought-out operation that had come to an unfortunate end because someone had meddled with it?
In the end, he asks nothing of it. Yan Xie lightly strokes the hand that made its way to his after a period of walking with their arms tangled around each other, letting Jiang Ting into the passenger seat. Seeing the other’s slightly shivering form, he takes off the jacket he was wearing and places it on Jiang Ting’s lap.
“Save it for yourself. You’re gonna freeze to death at this rate.”
When Yan Xie walks around and enters the driver’s seat, he’s met with a seemingly small Jiang Ting covered by his jacket, eyes looking forward, as they always do, with a glint of amusement and something that is so just like him, that familiar expression between confusion and a hidden knowingness of the situation.
Yan Xie laughs and starts the car’s engine. “You can talk better now that it’s warm, hm?”
Jiang Ting shoots him a very bored look. “Keep driving. There’s only so much I can tell you.”
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A glimpse of a major breakthrough in their investigation is dangled in front of them, like some treat to entice one’s pet, before it, quite literally, went up in flames.
Their plans for the evening had been set: after finally reaching a dead end in their investigation, they decided to revisit the old bearers of evidence that were available within their reach. Having eaten a good-enough meal to suffice their bodies through the night, with the exception of Jiang Ting, who had willingly offered up his meal to anyone who would like to have it, Yan Xie had called for a simple method of approach. He goes back to the interrogation room to deal with their initial suspects from XX University’s Chemistry Department, while their honorable Jiang Ting — still under the disguise of Lu Chengjian — was taken care of by Ma Xiang. While his help is greatly appreciated, there were still ground rules that needed to be followed even by the venerable Yan Xie. His mere presence in this anti-drug operation is strongly against their protocols, considering that despite being the superior commander of the police force years ago, he was participating in this investigation as an outsider who just happened to know a lot about drugs. And the necessary precautions to take in investigating them. And the means of interrogating suspects and victims alike. Seriously, did everyone just go with the flow of him being my friend and chalked up his expertise as a result of hanging out with me? No one really noticed a thing?
And then, their solitude was disrupted. The Traffic Administration Bureau delivered some news — the red Camry they were looking for was spotted by a detective from the team and they were immediately sent out to the field. Ma Xiang’s bleeding nose that was caused by having been hit by the door that was opened so suddenly, Jiang Ting’s empty stomach, and the interrogation of the university staff had been left to dust for the rest of the day.
However, by the time they arrived at the scene, the car’s remains after having caught on fire were the only things that met their expectant selves. There was no treasure chest of evidence gifted to them by the god of luck. Yan Xie would be disappointed in himself for thinking that they were to gain anything out of an abandoned car on the side of an inter-provincial highway. A heavy thunderstorm cut through the atmosphere, the crackling lightning and the heavy downpour of rain soaking everyone wet and miserable at another important lead gone.
“Report?”
“Nothing. No body, no objects… it’s just as we all thought.” Han Xiaomei delivered, her hand only doing so much to cover her head from the rain. “It was most likely abandoned after they found out that we were onto the Camry. I suspect a leak in the operation. We have to be careful.”
Huang Xing was stressed. Everyone’s voice was muffled by the loud rain pouring onto them and the strong wind that also made it hard for everyone to concentrate. “Officer Yan, we have to wait until the necessary materials arrive. Everything scorched in the combustion could still give us something useful. As much as possible, we have to preserve even the most burnt of the burnt substances in the corners of the car. It’s highly likely we can find something else, but this fucking thunderstorm had to come!”
Yan Xie should’ve seen this coming. After all, cars were a criminal’s gateway in and out of the crime scene. When a car is set on fire and left in an obscure spot by a highway, it must mean that there had been evidence that they couldn’t afford to leave — though unimportant to the criminals, it may still serve as a crucial lead for the police. Having no choice but to leave the car as it is, it’s possible that Han Xiaomei’s theory rang true. There was indeed a leak in their operation, and word made its way to the criminals that they were investigating the red Camry. That, or this was done on purpose to distract the police force.
It is also possible that the kidnappers and Chu Ci — or, Yan Xie dreadfully thinks, whatever was left of him — were picked up by another car on its way, but the thought of the kidnappers having finally killed Chu Ci and also finding a place to dump Chu Ci’s dead body in still sent a chill down their spines. Jiang Ting is right, these drug dealers need Chu Ci for their operation to proceed smoothly, but the possibility of Chu Ci having been disposed of at this point of time is still very high, as a refusal to cooperate could still be a reason for the suspects to throw him away.
Yan Xie feels his heart throb and looks at the chaotic scene before him.
“Everyone,” His voice echoes. “Everyone must stay and be on standby. Collect every little thing that could be left with traces — peculiar dust and materials that are not found in this environment, twigs and leaves with stains of blood or fluid. Quickly, before they get washed away. Ma Xiang,” he turns to the other man, “I want you to lead the investigation on everything left by the suspects. Track down everything that could help find the lead on them. Footprints, debris, soil samples, and all signs of human behavior within a kilometer of this scene. Do not miss even the smallest clue, especially in this storm. This is our only chance.”
Jiang Ting watches silently, arms wrapped around himself. Yan Xie, even when drenched by the rain and the disappointment of the burnt car, stands brighter than anyone could ever hope.
Chu Ci is another victim of this dangerous drug operation, a university student with aspirations, someone who was only dragged into this mess.
Jiang Ting knows, as he watches and listens to Yan Xie, that the rain and the burnt vehicle be damned when an innocent life waits for them at the other side of this fight.
It was settled. Until dawn, they will search and report. Everyone is dispatched to accomplish what they have to accomplish. Find what needed to be found.
Yan Xie approaches him later. Jiang Ting is equally soaked as he is, arms wound around his body tightly. Yan Xie looks at the other man’s face — a shade of red covers his pale cheeks, trailing down his neck and up to his ears. He gives a small smile, standing close to him, as though he had a secret to whisper in his ear. Jiang Ting’s eyelashes flutter close at the taller man’s proximity, the closeness almost enough to bother him, but he does not comment, only continuing to cover his torso from the cold. Yan Xie sighs as he moves a hand up to Jiang Ting’s forehead
“You.” He tries to poke lightly but is dodged by an annoyed Jiang Ting. “You are going to catch a cold at this rate. Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”
Yan Xie glances back at Han Xiaomei, who straightens up before she gets exposed accused of creating lovey-dovey scenarios of the two in her head. He tells her, “I have a house not too far away from here. You know, the one where Mr. Lu has stayed in. It’s got all the needed toiletries and rooms for this fellow and you. Order some hot porridge and hydrate him a lot. He didn’t eat anything before going here.”
Jiang Ting would’ve wanted to glare at Yan Xie for treating him as though he was a child, but a small sneeze creeps out of his throat and escapes just before he could even lift his head up. Yan Xie throws him a look that says I told you so, and he tossed his keys to Han Xiaomei, who replies with a curt “Yes, sir!” and then rushes to fetch the car.
“And as for our little patient here—” Yan Xie is forcefully shoved to the side in response, but it doesn’t stop him. Instead, he presses on Jiang Ting’s wet hair, drying as much as he can with his hands. “You are to stay inside until I call for you. You seemed to have forgotten that you couldn’t walk just a week ago, never mind stand in the rain for hours until sunrise. Get some sleep.”
Jiang Ting looks at Yan Xie, whose expression seemed to contradict the coaxing tone of his voice. His face showed unease, and he looks at Jiang Ting as though he had more questions to ask, more reasons why he should stay. The crease in his forehead is barely visible in the rain, but Jiang Ting knows it’s there. For someone who preaches so much about resting, you sure do seem to be a hypocrite.
Yan Xie takes his hands away from Jiang Ting’s hair and nodded, turning his back away from the other man.
“Wait,” Jiang Ting lets out.
“...?” Yan Xie turns around just in time to meet Jiang Ting’s face directly in front of him.
Too close, is what he first thinks. Close enough for Yan Xie to feel Jiang Ting’s warm breath against his skin, intermingling with his own soft exhales in an attempt to calm himself down. Close enough for Yan Xie to count the droplets of water that sit pretty and still on Jiang Ting’s eyelashes, on the curve of his cheek, rosy and warm, trailing down to his chin. His lips are soft, cold, and slightly wet, with the way they press up to the side of his face, just a near inch away from Yan Xie’s lips, like a raindrop that lingers and comforts. Yan Xie feels Jiang Ting’s hands slowly stroke his arms, a gentle, constant motion, feeling up his skin closely, as though to soothe the tense muscles underneath his fingers.
His eyes are dull, but there is a trace of something Yan Xie feels confident enough to call concern in his voice. “Take care of yourself. Don’t stay up too late.”
The car revs up behind them. Jiang Ting releases Yan Xie from his hold. He glances back at him one last time before he enters the car.
He remains still where he is, on the same spot where Jiang Ting presses his lips on his cheek, where he was held and provided solace for. He watches the car drive into the distance until the taillights go out of his sight, until the only light and movement he could see and hear were from the people on the field.
Yan Xie smiles. “I know.”