The haircut equipment was incomplete, and with Zhou Tuoxing not cooperating in his sitting position, a lot
of hair fragments fell onto his neck and back after he stood up.
He was wearing a sweater, and the short hair stubs pricked into his clothes, not coming off easily, so he
went to the bathroom to clean up.
After He Chuan Zhou finished cleaning the balcony and put the rag back, she passed by the bathroom and
happened to see him washing his hair, shirtless, through the slightly open door.
Once he took off his clothes, He Chuan Zhou realized he had a very strong build. He looked lean only because
of his broad shoulders and narrow waist, but as his upper body moved, the muscles along his waist and back
tightened, extending to his arms, creating smooth, powerful lines.
He Chuan Zhou felt that the person inside suddenly seemed a bit unfamiliar. Just as she was about to walk
away, Zhou Tuoxing turned off the water and looked back at her.
The sound of the running water stopped but drops continued to trickle from his hair onto his shoulders,
sliding along the curve of his shoulder down to his chest.
For some reason, He Chuan Zhou’s eyes were drawn to those droplets, following their path downward, stopping
at his waist, then rationally moving back up.
Looking up, her gaze met Zhou Tuoxing’s.
In the small bathroom, the two of them, one inside and one outside, were silent for a few seconds.
In that awkward silence, He Chuan Zhou smartly read his question through his clear eyes and calmly said, "We
don't have extra towels."
Zhou Tuoxing gave a faint "oh," raised his hand to grab his wet hair, and shook his head.
He probably did it on purpose, as some of the water splashed onto He Chuan Zhou’s face, making her
instinctively close her eyes from the coolness.
The figure in the mirror appeared somewhat blurred in her peripheral vision. Avoiding his gaze, He Chuan
Zhou wiped the water from her face with her fingers and heard Zhou Tuoxing ask, "Can you check if there's
still hair on my back?"
He couldn't see it himself and had roughly wiped himself down, leaving the skin on his neck red and still
feeling uncomfortable.
He Chuan Zhou stepped forward. He lowered his head and bent over, propping one hand on the sink, leaning
towards her, all the while watching her face in the mirror’s reflection.
Initially, He Chuan Zhou wanted to pat it off with her hand, but hesitated, then grabbed a dry towel nearby
and wiped his back.
But since his skin was wet and he had cut his hair carefully earlier, the scattered hair fragments were too
small and stuck, making them hard to remove.
So He Chuan Zhou pressed on his back, making him bend lower, and rinsed him off with water.
She felt Zhou Tuoxing’s body heat, the touch of his fingers giving her a sense of warmth. After rinsing for
a while, she let Zhou Tuoxing feel the water temperature himself.
He extended his hand, letting his slightly bent fingers pass through the stream of water, nodding and
saying, “It’s fine.”
He Chuan Zhou then quickly poured water over his back and dried it with a towel.
Zhou Tuoxing kept his head down the entire time, behaving meekly and cooperatively, almost as if in a daze,
letting her handle him absentmindedly.
He Chuan Zhou vaguely sensed an indescribable atmosphere between them, glanced at the two reflections in the
mirror, reconsidered the scene, and her actions might be inappropriate. She handed him the towel and
maintained a distance, saying, "You wipe yourself. The towel is the one I use for washing my hair, so you
can use it if you don’t mind."
Zhou Tuoxing took it without hesitation, covered his wet hair with it, and rubbed his scalp with one hand.
Watching his slow movements, He Chuan Zhou added, "There's no more hair on you. Put on your clothes; it's
still cold today, be careful not to catch a cold."
Zhou Tuoxing didn’t respond, extending his arm to fetch the sweater from the rack. He carefully dusted the
collar, but since it couldn’t be thoroughly cleaned, he frowned and reluctantly put it on.
Once he finished tidying up, He Chuan Zhou saw him off at the door.
After a moment’s thought, Zhou Tuoxing asked, "If you plan to move, I can help you find a suitable place. Do
you want to buy a house or rent one?"
He Chuan Zhou didn’t answer directly, vaguely saying, "I’ll see."
Zhou Tuoxing didn’t press further, "Let me know if you need anything."
This should have been the closing line before leaving, yet after saying it, Zhou Tuoxing still stood there.
He didn’t say much more, perhaps unable to find a suitable topic, just looking seriously outside the door.
He Chuan Zhou waited patiently for a while, realizing she might not get the chance to see him off, unwilling
to continue this face-off, she closed the door directly.
She went to the balcony to collect the clothes, then to the kitchen to heat a cup of milk. When she returned
to the living room, she inexplicably wanted to see if Zhou Tuoxing had left.
This idea was a bit absurd, not even a gut feeling.
She opened the door, didn’t see anyone, and felt relieved. Before she could even self-deprecate, she turned
her head and found him still standing in the stairwell below. He was eerily quiet.
Most of the lights in their building were broken, so Zhou Tuoxing was leaning against the dark wall like a
ghost. He Chuan Zhou was genuinely startled. Confirming it was him, she amusingly yet helplessly asked, “Do
you still have something to do?”
“No,” Zhou Tuoxing’s expression was hard to discern, but He Chuan Zhou detected a hint of amusement in his
words, “I just wanted to see if you would come back to find me this time.”
He stepped forward into a patch of soft moonlight by the window.
The gentle light didn’t clearly illuminate his face but made his presence calm and peaceful. His words
didn’t sound aggressive, but in He Chuan Zhou’s ears, they felt like a complaint after a release.
She didn’t know how he suddenly mastered the skill of playing the victim so adeptly that she even suspected
it was deliberate, followed by a slight sense of guilt for such a thought. She opened her mouth, softened
her voice, and advised, “Go home, it’s dark now.”
This time Zhou Tuoxing finally listened and walked downstairs.
He Chuan Zhou went back inside and took a shower. She wasn’t sleepy at night, probably because she had slept
during the day. She played on her computer for a while, then came to the living room, trying to move some
old furniture to one place, sorting out what needed to be thrown away.
However, she wasn’t cut out for housework, and after less than half an hour, she lost interest. Sitting on
the coffee table, she stared at the framed photos on the wall.
He Xu’s smile had faded a bit, his facial features pale and worn. She wiped the dust with a tissue, but it
had no effect, probably because it had been exposed to the sun for too long.
She looked at it quietly, her thoughts wandering through time and space until she felt sleepy and buried
herself in the bed covers.
·
After a few sunny days, City A felt like it had fallen into a furnace, quickly warming up, with the average
temperature rising by about 20 degrees in less than a week. As April began, people started switching from
coats to short sleeves.
Zhou Tuoxing’s work also got busier, and he was out of sight for a few days. Occasionally, he would send a
message to He Chuan Zhou about available housing in City A or an interesting article he read that day.
Most of the time, He Chuan Zhou couldn’t respond promptly, but he didn’t mind.
Recently, there hadn’t been any major incidents in City A, so the team had a bit more free time,
occasionally helping colleagues next door, temporarily escaping from their previously hectic lives.
During lunch break, Shao Zhixin finished eating and was browsing news in the office. He clicked on his
favorite list and was pleasantly surprised to find that the account he had been following had updated again.
The case of Officer He had a follow-up, though it was still unfinished. Additionally, the author had posted
a new case summary, updating it all at once.
Shao Zhixin clicked on the second link and, after just scanning the first two lines, felt a strong sense of
familiarity. Considering the time and place, he quickly concluded that the new case described was the
Guangyuan Community murder case they had just solved last month.
The problem was that after Liu Guangyu was arrested, he was sent directly to the detention center, and the
police announcement withheld many details. How could an ordinary reporter have obtained these internal
clues?
You couldn't find this information even if you searched through all the available materials.
Shao Zhixin scrolled back to the top of the article to reconfirm the author's name, a very literary one
called "Several Degrees of Autumn Cool." He then stood up and scanned his colleagues, unable to identify a
suitable target. Could it be? After all these years of following this blogger, could the author be someone
from within their own precinct?