Chapter 86: The Camera

On the chessboard, each piece has its own camp, the Chu River and Han Border clearly separating them, but human positions shift, and banners do not always remain fixed.

Han Yuan followed behind Zhang Yunxi and Sun Tiantian, occasionally glancing at his phone, his actions furtive—those with secrets always seem shifty, no matter what they do. Yet what resided in Han Yuan’s heart was not guilt, but his sister Han Qingxue.

Ever since he learned some news about Han Qingxue from the butler last night, Han Yuan’s thoughts had wandered far away; he had no desire to keep circling around with Zhang Yunxi and the others, wasting precious time.

Investigating a case is never a quick affair—it requires careful unraveling, patient work. There’s an old saying: a long illness makes the patient a doctor. It applies to people like Han Yuan, too; being a repeat offender himself, he knows exactly how much time the police need to crack a case.

Under normal circumstances, he might have truly cooperated with Zhang Xiaoman, staying by Zhang Yunxi’s side, patiently searching for clues in Lvteng City, treating it as a chance to get some air, to travel and relax. But now, it was impossible; his sister was still in some kind of danger. Han Yuan felt that having helped Zhang Yunxi once was already more than enough—he was not violating his promise to Zhang Xiaoman, but he couldn’t just become a bodyguard for this little girl.

He glanced down, seemingly absent-minded, at the electronic shackle on his ankle, a cold smile curling his lips. To him, it was nothing more than a child’s toy lock; if he wanted it off, it would take only minutes.

Years ago, when Han Yuan was still a teenager, he worked in a restaurant. Many things happened there; the proprietress died, her husband died, and even the fat chef who used to secretly save drumsticks for him died—right before his eyes. Han Yuan couldn’t crack the Luban lock on the iron door in time, and could only watch as the chef melted into iron.

Afterward, determined not to let his friends meet the same fate, Han Yuan practiced lock-picking for a long time.

There are eight legendary locks in the world, considered foolproof, used in the central banks of eight major countries. Han Yuan had managed to crack six of them, leaving only the last two: "Prometheus" and "After the Disaster." If Zhang Xiaoman hadn’t sabotaged him, he might have opened all eight, becoming a myth in the trade.

Compared to those, the electronic shackle was nothing—it only added a location tracker, sending out periodic updates. A lock can always be opened with a key, and if there’s no key, he’d make one. Han Yuan silently brushed Sun Tiantian’s shoulder, hiding a strand of her hair in his palm.

Sun Tiantian glanced back warily, brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

Han Yuan shrugged. “Nothing, there was a little bee resting on your shoulder, I just shooed it away.”

Zhang Yunxi narrowed her eyes at Han Yuan. “Don’t try anything funny. Once this is over, we’ll return to City A, everyone going their own way—you can get back to basking in the sun in jail.”

Han Yuan curled his lip. “This case is far more complicated than you think. Each thread connects like a spider’s web... How about a bet? You won’t be returning to City A any time soon.”

“You know something?” Zhang Yunxi suddenly recalled what Wei Xue had said about someone poisoning Zhang Xiaoman late at night, and afterward Zhang Xiaoman had gone to prison. Her face turned cold. “Was that incident in the dorm your doing?”

“What incident? I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Han Yuan feigned innocence. “As for inside information, I do know a bit. After all, before your father caught me, I spent quite a while in Lvteng City. I was going to trade this information for a few days of freedom, but it seems he’s a bit too confident... So, do you want to make a deal? My intel is far more reliable than your colorful photos.”

Zhang Yunxi sneered. “No need. Our Zhang family has never negotiated with criminals. The case can be investigated slowly, clues found gradually, and the truth will eventually emerge—I’m in no hurry.”

“That’s a shame...” Han Yuan put on a look of regret. “You’re actually very close to the answer, but you keep missing the key point, led astray by others.”

Sun Tiantian tilted her head, her twin ponytails swinging, and smiled. “Uncle Han Yuan, even if they aren’t interested, I am. What’s the point in enjoying secrets alone? You can tell me—I promise I’ll never tell anyone.”

Han Yuan rolled his eyes, hands in his pockets, acting as if he hadn’t heard Sun Tiantian, continuing to follow Zhang Yunxi toward the flowerbeds.

Zhang Yunxi took out her phone, comparing the photo on it to the surroundings, and sighed. “More than ten years have passed, everything here has changed. I wonder if we’ll ever find those people again...”

“All cities are the same. After a few years, it’s like another world...” Han Yuan couldn’t help but sigh. “This world is good—for those who can adapt. But it’s bad—for those who cannot.”

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Han Yuan pulled it out, glanced at the message, then nonchalantly put it away, explaining, “It’s from the service provider—my credit’s almost out.” He pointed to the group of elderly women dancing by the flowerbed. “I think they’re the ones who’ve adapted to the changes in the park. Maybe the person you’re looking for is among them.”

Zhang Yunxi shot Han Yuan a meaningful look, bit her lip, then decided to take his advice. She walked straight toward the elderly ladies swaying to the beat, stopping before one on the edge. She gently tapped her shoulder, smiling. “Excuse me, may I have a minute of your time?”

The lady glanced at Zhang Yunxi and the others, continued waving her scarf, and replied indifferently, “I don’t buy health supplements.”

Sun Tiantian licked her lollipop, dimples appearing as she smiled sweetly. “Ma’am, we’re not selling health supplements...”

The lady cast Sun Tiantian a cold look. “Who’s a ‘ma’am’? Don’t call people that. Kids these days are really lacking manners.”

Han Yuan stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Sister, we’re not here to scam you out of money...”

The lady swayed a few more times, glanced at Han Yuan in his suit, and waved him off impatiently. “Don’t call me sister, I’m not buying insurance either.”

Zhang Yunxi’s eyes darted. She pulled out a press card she’d received at a book signing, handed it to the lady, and smiled. “Auntie, I’m a reporter from the TV station. I’d like to interview you for a few minutes—it’s not any kind of sales pitch.”

The lady took the card, scanned it quickly, and asked in surprise, “Your name is Li Tiezhu?”

“Yes...” Zhang Yunxi’s eye twitched. “I was sick a lot as a kid, so my dad gave me a tough name to help me survive.”

The lady, half convinced, put the card away and stepped aside, looking around suspiciously. “Isn’t this an interview? Where’s your camera?”

Han Yuan gave a dry laugh, keeping his composure. “To avoid making you nervous in front of the camera, we’ve hidden the equipment where you can’t see it.”

“A reality show? I get it!” The lady smiled knowingly, pointing to Han Yuan’s suit pocket. “There’s a hidden camera in there—I’ve seen this trick on TV...” She laughed and held out her right hand to Zhang Yunxi. “Hand it over.”

Zhang Yunxi blinked, staring at the lady, and asked, “Hand over what?”

“The script,” the lady frowned. “A reality show can’t be done without a script. How else am I supposed to act?”

Sun Tiantian’s mouth dropped open, her lollipop falling and shattering on the ground. “A reality show needs a script? It’s got ‘reality’ in the name, isn’t it just acting if there’s a script?”

“How can a reality show not have a script? Sure, it says ‘reality,’ but there’s ‘show’ right after it.” The lady looked down on Sun Tiantian. “Just because it’s called reality doesn’t mean it’s real. There are so many things these days that aren’t as advertised. Take soy sauce—is it really oil? Is a snail really a cow? Is the Beautiful Country really beautiful?”

Sun Tiantian lowered her head, feeling her world collapse in that instant, regretting all the days she spent binge-watching reality shows, day and night, in funeral homes.

The lady eyed Zhang Yunxi suspiciously, pursing her lips. “So unprofessional—are you really from the TV station?”

Zhang Yunxi forced a bitter smile, hurriedly explaining, “Auntie, we really are from the TV station. But what we’re doing isn’t a reality show, it’s a social survey program. We’d like to ask about your experiences living in Lvteng City over the years.”

The lady drew out an “oh,” winking at Zhang Yunxi. “Now I get it—so I know what to say: ‘I’m good, you’re good, everyone’s good.’”

Zhang Yunxi nodded as if resigned, then asked the lady a few standard questions. After the lady praised her new life at length, Zhang Yunxi took out her phone and showed a photo. “Auntie, since you’ve lived here so long, do you recognize the people in this photo?”

The lady squinted at the photo, then shook her head. “No. Are these people in trouble?”

“No,” Zhang Yunxi waved her hand, “they’re just old friends I haven’t seen in years. I heard they used to play in this area, so I wanted to ask you about them.”

“The place in the photo is definitely here,” the lady pouted, “but those people aren’t locals. I’ve lived near this park for decades, know every kid in the neighborhood, but I’ve never seen those two.”

Zhang Yunxi sighed in disappointment. “Alright, maybe they just came here a few times. Thank you for your help, we have more interviews to do elsewhere. Goodbye...”

“Wait!” Just as Zhang Yunxi and the others were about to leave, the lady suddenly called out. “Can I look at your photo again?”

Zhang Yunxi immediately turned back, handing her phone to the lady, excitement lighting her face. “Did you remember something?”

“I really haven’t seen the people...” The lady slowly shook her head, pointing to a spot in the upper right corner of the photo. “But I’ve seen that camera before. The strap looks familiar...” She gestured toward the first lady waving a colorful ribbon. “Her husband owns one—when we were younger, I borrowed it a few times. Cameras used to be expensive, you know the saying: ‘Owning a DSLR means poverty for three generations...’”

Zhang Yunxi’s eyes grew brighter. She took back her phone, thanked the lady, and hurried toward the lady with the colorful ribbon.

Just then, in the grove to the right of the flowerbed, a group of people in black uniforms crept closer, their leader in sunglasses raising his hand and uttering two cold words: “Get ready.”