Chapter 6: Threats

That night, we indulged ourselves in wild abandon.

She remains one of the most unforgettable women I’ve ever met—first, for her astonishing passion in bed, so fierce that even I, the so-called playboy, suffered five defeats in six rounds, clinching only a single, hard-won victory. Ever since, just thinking of her brings an ache to my waist.

Second, there was the gun she wore at her side—I caught sight of her police badge and realized she was a deputy director at Linjiang City Police Department.

But after that night, she turned cold as ice and informed me our association ended there.

Naturally, I agreed. When it comes to casual affairs, there are unspoken rules—never entangle, that’s the bare minimum.

If I sought her out now, wouldn’t that be breaking the rules?

But then again, I told myself, I wasn’t going to pester her—just ask for a favor.

The snowstorm outside grew heavier as I hailed a cab to Linjiang Police Department. Inside the lobby, I quickly spotted Chi Yun’s photograph among those displayed on the wall—her features were simply too striking to miss.

But when I made my way to the eighth floor where she worked, I found myself blocked by an electronic access door at the corridor.

“Really? An access control system? How’s that for being out of touch with the people?” I muttered, frowning. I headed back down to the second-floor offices, and when no one was looking, I filched a set of keys lying on a desk—one of them was an access card.

With that card, I easily slipped through the eighth-floor checkpoint and found Chi Yun’s office.

I knocked—no response. I twisted the handle; to my surprise, the door opened.

“Tsk, tsk, as expected of a deputy director's office—truly lavish.” I murmured, surveying the elegant decor as I strolled behind the broad mahogany desk and plopped down in the plush swivel chair.

In the corner, a coat rack held a heavy overcoat, a hat, and a scarf; files and documents were stacked on the desk. Clearly, Chi Yun had just stepped out.

Warm air filled the room. I’d worked the night shift and then rushed around all day—sleepiness crept over me, and before I knew it, I drifted off in the chair.

I dreamed of my parents—bloodied, hanging in a shroud of fog, gazing at me with mournful eyes.

I ran toward them with all my might but couldn’t get closer, no matter how I tried.

Suddenly, I felt a cold touch against my forehead. My body shuddered, and I opened my eyes.

Chi Yun’s beautiful, icy face came into view. She wore her uniform, and the swell of her chest threatened to burst the buttons.

More importantly, she held a gun pressed to my forehead.

“Chi Yun... uh, Director Chi, let’s talk this out. I came here to see you,” I blurted out her name, but feeling the pressure of the gun against my brow, quickly corrected myself.

Chi Yun fixed me with a frigid stare for a long moment, then withdrew her gun. Coldly, she said, “Get out. Now. I’ll overlook your trespassing and your attempt to steal confidential files.”

I froze, my smile fading.

“Are you threatening me?” I asked with a neutral expression.

“Take it as you will.” Chi Yun met my gaze, her authority growing stronger.

“You could try, but I can’t guarantee your wild side from that night won’t become public knowledge,” I replied with feigned confidence. Of course, I was bluffing; as someone who respected the rules, I’d never stoop so low.

Chi Yun’s eyelids twitched; her face flushed red, then paled.

“You’re shameless...” Her tone faltered—the kind of leverage I held could be deadly for a woman of her rank.

“Director Chi, I have no other intentions. I just need a favor,” I said.

“If it’s anything illegal, forget it. I’d rather go down with the ship,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Of course not. I need you to—”

“Impossible. I told you, it was only for that night,” Chi Yun snapped.

I paused, then laughed. “You’re misunderstanding me. I need you to pull some strings so I can meet a detainee.”

She looked embarrassed. When I said the detainee’s name, her expression shifted oddly for a moment. After thinking it over, she said, “I can let you see him, but only if you go in as his lawyer. Also, He Xiaobing is mentally unstable—he’s preliminarily diagnosed with mania.”

“That’s fine,” I shrugged. All I needed was to take He Wenjing to see him—whatever state He Xiaobing was in was none of my concern.

“After this is over, hand over what you have. If I find out you kept a backup, I won’t let you off,” Chi Yun said, grabbing me fiercely by the collar.

“Relax. When can I see him?” I asked.

“I’ll contact you once it’s arranged,” she replied, shoving me away.

In the days that followed, I worked my shift and studied the Grand Netherworld Yin-Yang Technique. During this time, Xu Baoguo’s wife, Zhang Huixiang, came to see me once, begging for help and offering a fortune in return. I told her plainly not to put me in a difficult position—no amount of money is worth risking your life.

Three days later, Chi Yun called to say everything was set, and I could visit the detention center the next morning.

That night, I volunteered for the night shift, and after midnight, I returned to the mortuary.

Partly, I needed to inform He Wenjing; partly, I needed to retrieve something from her corpse to serve as an anchor for her spirit.

Old Li, the mortuary guard, was snoring away as usual. I entered without any trouble.

A chill swept through, and He Wenjing appeared before me, her expression oddly coy for a ghost.

“I’m taking you to see your father,” I said.

She looked elated, rushing toward me.

“Stay back,” I said, taking a hurried step away and pointing at her. For ordinary people, contact with a ghost meant a chill would invade the body—at best, a cold; at worst, a collapse of vital energy.

I’d been practicing the Grand Netherworld Yin-Yang Technique for days, but I’d only managed a faint sense of qi—if it even existed and wasn’t just my imagination. Without the Yin-Yang Nether Eye, I’d have thought I’d bought a phony technique off the street.

So truth be told, I wasn’t much better off than anyone else—hence the toll my body took after that night’s encounter with this female ghost.

“Where is your corpse?” I asked.

He Wenjing said nothing, just stared at me with ghostly eyes.

“Testing me, huh? Fine,” I said, understanding her meaning. It was a good chance to try out the spirit-seeking method from the Yin-Yang Technique.

I took out a talisman and a cinnabar brush, using what little spiritual energy I could muster to draw a spirit-seeking charm.

As soon as I let go, the charm ignited, and a barely visible spark shot like a meteor into freezer drawer number 49.

A sigh of relief escaped me—perhaps I wasn’t so untalented after all.

I went to drawer 49, pulled it open, and unzipped the body bag to reveal He Wenjing’s ghastly remains.

Half her face was gone, her chest gaping with a hole, and her eyelids were glued shut—the adhesive marks were obvious.

He Wenjing’s ghost hovered nearby, sobbing with a piercing wail, the ghostly energy around her intensifying.

Without hesitation, I pulled a gold-and-jade pendant from her neck, zipped the bag, and pushed the drawer closed.

“This pendant was yours in life. It carries your aura, and the jade can nourish a soul—an ideal refuge for you,” I said.

Her spirit drifted toward the pendant and vanished inside.

I pocketed the necklace and left the morgue.

“Dr. Qin, here to see the bodies again?” Old Li’s hoarse voice called out.

“Yes,” I replied, feeling uneasy. Why did Old Li always wake up when I left? It was downright eerie.

“This place is heavy with yin energy. Take care of your health,” Old Li advised.

I gave a noncommittal answer and headed for the elevator, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his words carried another meaning.

The next morning, I dressed with unusual care, donning a suit and tie, gold-rimmed glasses, and a briefcase—a picture of a successful professional.

Role-playing came easily to me. Years spent wooing women had made me a chameleon, slipping into any persona—be it a playboy or an elite.

Right on time, I arrived at Linjiang Detention Center. I hadn’t waited long before a police car pulled up in front of me.

“Lawyer Qin, get in,” Chi Yun called from the back seat, dressed in uniform, window lowered.

“Of course, Director Chi,” I replied, adjusting my glasses with a slight smile, opening the rear door, and getting in.