Chapter 38: Target Person

Chen Dongyang scratched his head, his gaze catching Yin Xiran’s easy smile.
But her pale face and the faint sweat on her forehead betrayed her strain.
She wasn’t as composed as she seemed.

A strange feeling stirred in him.
Yin Xiran—sharp, confident, cunning—always in control.
Yet she was only sixteen.
How could she face such otherworldly horrors so calmly?
What past shaped her unyielding strength?

Curiosity sparked in him.

“What’s up, Classmate Chen?” Yin Xiran noticed his stare, her tone teasing.
“Rude to gawk at a girl. Mesmerized by my heroic charm?”

“No…” Chen Dongyang looked away, cheeks warming.
“Just thinking… should we go? Don’t want your sister and Jiang worrying.”

Her smile widened at his flustered state.
She didn’t push, turning her attention to the music box.

Brushing dust off its cold, heavy surface, she held it up.
“This the one from the music classroom?”

“Exactly,” Chen Dongyang confirmed, recognizing the faded rose pattern.

Yin Xiran pried open the stiff lid with a faint squeak.
The brass gears and steel combs gleamed inside.

“Huh?” she muttered, puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Chen Dongyang leaned in.

“Take a look,” she said, showing him the box, her eyes serious.
“Was it… always like this?”

The central figurine—the dancing girl—was gone, leaving a bare, cracked metal base.

—

Nanjiang International Education City

Jiang Yuxin and Yin Qingle navigated the desolate ruins, targeting the central administrative building.
The towering structures cast oppressive shadows, the wind wailing like ghostly whispers.

Yin Qingle stayed close, stepping cautiously, fearing something would leap from the shadows.
“Jiang… what are we looking for?” she whispered.

“A reason,” Jiang Yuxin replied, not turning.
Her voice cut through the wind.
“Why Li Wenbo, after meeting the murderer, didn’t call the police but chose death.”

She stopped, her dark eyes piercing under the gray sky.
“Like the senior who died, she visited the music room before her death. Li Wenbo came here. These ‘crime scenes’ weren’t endpoints—they were where their resolve to die began. Something they saw or experienced pushed them to give up.”

She scanned the silent ruins, a sneer curling her lips.
“Abandoned for over a decade, visited only by vagrants and thrill-seekers. Vast, complex, full of hiding spots. Perfect for burying secrets.”

Yin Qingle’s heart tightened, and she edged closer to Jiang Yuxin, wary of showing too much fear.

A phone buzzed, breaking the silence.
Jiang Yuxin checked it—a message from a contact with a public security logo.

Yin Qingle glimpsed it, shocked.
“Jiang… you know police officers?”

“I don’t,” Jiang Yuxin said flatly, unlocking her phone.
“I planted a psychological trigger in someone at the Municipal Bureau. When I need information, their subconscious sends it to me, fast and discreet. They don’t even remember doing it.”

Yin Qingle froze, torn between awe and unease.
Jiang Yuxin’s ability to manipulate a city’s police system was staggering, but… was it ethical?

Ignoring her, Jiang Yuxin opened the message—a detailed file on a corruption case from over a decade ago.
Highlighted in red was a section about Nanjiang No. 2 Middle School.

Zhang Weiming, former principal, sentenced to 15 years for corruption, bribery, and embezzlement. Died of a heart attack in prison, 2021.

Below, another name stood out:

Zhao Haoyu, former music teacher at Nanjiang No. 2 Middle School. Key witness in Zhang Weiming’s case, provided critical evidence. Resigned in 2011. Whereabouts unknown.

Jiang Yuxin pocketed her phone, her sneer fading.