Chapter Forty: Boundless Romance

Da Bao’s home had been refurbished beyond recognition, a far cry from the poverty and narrowness Lu Hehuan had witnessed on her first visit. Hao-jie had risked everything to secure a life of comfort for her son, yet not long after her death, Da Bao himself followed her into the grave.

Li Yingying lounged seductively on the sofa, skillfully lighting a cigarette. She exhaled a languid ring of smoke and gestured to Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi. “Sit wherever you like.”

No sooner had she spoken than Ying Xi, grinning, sat down beside her, his eyes fixed on the expanse of bare thigh revealed beneath her cheongsam.

Sensing his lecherous gaze, Li Yingying laughed coquettishly, pushing him away and feigning modesty as she covered her exposed leg. “Detective Ying, where are you looking? I’m a married woman, you know.”

Ying Xi teasingly brushed her hair with his hand, openly flirting. “But you’ve just become a widow, haven’t you?”

A blush tinted Li Yingying’s delicate cheeks. She flirted back without the slightest pretense, “Oh, you rogue, you’re terrible.”

As he bantered with Li Yingying, keeping her occupied, Ying Xi shot Lu Hehuan a meaningful glance. Lu Hehuan caught on and began to scan the room as if by chance.

“Detective Ying, did you come because you heard I lost my husband?” Li Yingying’s eyes smoldered, completely oblivious to Lu Hehuan’s movements.

Ying Xi chuckled without a hint of seriousness. “Of course—both in an official and a personal capacity. Officially, I’m here to gather information about Da Bao and the case. Personally…” He smiled suggestively, placing his hand on her thigh. “I’m here to comfort an old flame.”

Li Yingying giggled, this time without removing his hand. “To be considered your old flame is my good fortune indeed, Detective.”

While the two exchanged playful words, Lu Hehuan had quietly slipped over to the shoe cabinet. He opened it, quickly glanced through the high heels inside, and noted there were none in white, nor did any of the heels show damage. Lu Hehuan frowned in secret.

Ying Xi’s hand wandered up and down Li Yingying’s thigh as he asked offhandedly, “Yingying, did Da Bao often stay out all night?”

“He did. Men always think wildflowers are sweeter—I know that better than anyone. But I also know they never truly care for the women outside, so I just let him be.”

“Did he act strangely before the incident?”

Li Yingying shook her head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Lu Hehuan quietly closed the shoe cabinet and returned to the sitting room, signaling Ying Xi with a look.

Ying Xi took the hint and gave Li Yingying’s thigh a gentle squeeze. Lu Hehuan, noticing Ying Xi’s wanton behavior, could not help but frown and shake his head again.

“Well, that’s all for now. If you remember anything useful, come to the station to find me,” Ying Xi told her tenderly, his gaze lingering.

Li Yingying threw him a sultry look, smoothing her hair with her left hand, and replied with heartfelt sincerity, “All right, but even if I have no clues, Detective, you must visit often.”

“I promise.” Ying Xi grinned wickedly at her.

Lu Hehuan, growing impatient, signaled to Ying Xi that it was time to leave.

Meanwhile, the office clock ticked on in slow motion as Zhu Wolong and Bao Kang paced back and forth, waiting anxiously for Baldy’s return.

After a long while, Baldy hurried back, clutching a sheet of paper in his hand.

“Director Bao, the love poem is ready.”

Bao Kang’s face lit up and he rushed over. “Does it meet the requirements?”

Baldy nodded. “Exactly as you ordered—deeply affectionate, heartfelt, imbued with love to the bone, unforgettable for a lifetime.”

Bao Kang nodded with satisfaction. “Show it to Boss Zhu right away.”

Zhu Wolong took the poem, glanced at it, then looked helplessly at Bao Kang. “Director Bao, to be honest, I can’t read half these words.”

Bao Kang gave Baldy a sharp smack on the head. “Put the pronunciation marks in for Boss Zhu!”

“Yes, sir!” Baldy set about annotating every character on the desk.

In a moment, Baldy looked up at Bao Kang with a fawning smile. “Director, it’s done.”

“Leave us.”

Baldy, puzzled but obedient, left as ordered.

Zhu Wolong, now satisfied, scrutinized the poem. After a long study, he promised Bao Kang with new confidence, “I’ll recite this poem with such passion and sincerity, love to the very marrow—Miss Bao will never forget it.”

“You can do it!” Bao Kang tightened his fist in encouragement.

Zhu Wolong nodded solemnly.

Bao Rong was unceremoniously dragged by Bao Kang into the police yard.

“Brother, what on earth am I supposed to see? I have work to finish!” Bao Rong was impatient at Bao Kang’s mysterious manner.

“I want you to see true love!” Bao Kang pointed to a corner of the yard.

“True love?” Bao Rong was baffled. She followed his gesture and saw Zhu Wolong in a long robe standing beneath a crooked tree, with Ah Hua beside him. The breeze stirred Zhu Wolong’s hair and ruffled the chicken’s feathers.

“Brother, what is this?” Bao Rong looked at him in surprise.

“Shh…” Bao Kang interrupted, finger to lips, and whispered, “Quiet now. Listen closely and feel it with your heart.”

Bao Rong looked at Zhu Wolong, more bewildered than ever.

Everything ready, Zhu Wolong assumed the air of a literary scholar and began to recite the poem with great feeling, while Ah Hua clucked in time beside him, making the scene somewhat absurd.

“…The rose weeps in solitude, emerald sashes adorned with tiny blooms. My beloved… as foolish as clouds, embracing the sun at dawn behind the western curtain. My pillow is stone from the dragon’s palace, carved with the color of autumn waves. The jade mat has lost its softness, only veiled green gauze remains. I remember the spring two years past, grief unspoken. I returned and she was gone, the brocade zither now longer than she. Today… pine at the stream’s bottom, tomorrow mountain… prickly ash. Sorrow overturns the heavenly pool—face to face, yet strangers we remain…”

Stumbling to the end, Zhu Wolong finished the poem. Bao Kang, moved to tears, looked at Bao Rong with emotion. “Xiao Rong, Boss Zhu is a true dragon among men, and he’s humbled himself to write you a love poem. Aren’t you even a little moved?”

“He wrote this? Isn’t this Li Shangyin’s ‘Song of the Inner Chamber’?” Bao Rong was bewildered and suspicious.

“We only borrowed a little!” Bao Kang protested awkwardly.

Bao Rong gave Zhu Wolong a look of disdain. “Not a single word different. It’s blatant plagiarism.”

“All the world’s writing is just copying. As long as the feeling is true, what does it matter if a poem is borrowed?” Bao Kang was unconcerned.

“Even if plagiarism isn’t the issue, do you know what this poem means?” Bao Rong was exasperated.

“Of course! It’s the outpouring of deep affection. Sincere, passionate, love to the bone—unforgettable,” Bao Kang insisted.

Seeing his shamelessness, Bao Rong could only nod in resignation. “You’re right—it’s deeply affectionate, love to the bone, unforgettable. But Li Shangyin wrote it in memory of his dead wife.”

Zhu Wolong looked confused. “Wang wife? The king’s wife? Did the poet fall in love with the emperor’s woman?”

“Dead wife! He wrote it after his wife died, as a lament for her passing,” Bao Rong said crossly.

Bao Kang and Zhu Wolong shouted in unison, embarrassed, “Ah!”

“I have work to do. If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.” With that, Bao Rong walked away, leaving the two men staring at each other in dismay.

Ah Hua clucked at just the wrong moment, as if mocking them both.

“Damn you, Baldy!” Bao Kang roared, face livid.

As the last rays of the sun bathed the city, Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi left Da Bao’s home and strolled side by side down a little road aglow with evening light.

Lu Hehuan kept glancing at Ying Xi, as if wanting to speak but hesitating.

Ying Xi noticed and looked at her curiously. “Why do you keep sneaking glances at me?”

“Detective Ying, I never thought you were that kind of man,” Lu Hehuan said earnestly.

“What kind of man?” Ying Xi pressed.

“The Zhu Wolong type.” Lu Hehuan couldn’t bring herself to say more.

Ying Xi arched an eyebrow in annoyance. “Is he as handsome and dashing as me?”

Lu Hehuan scrutinized him. “Dashing, yes. The rest, no.”

Ying Xi glared at her, scolding, “You know nothing. It’s all an act. If I hadn’t distracted Li Yingying, would you have been able to search her place?”

Lu Hehuan considered this and nodded. “That’s true.”

Ying Xi grinned mischievously and threw an arm around her shoulders.

She brushed his hand off in disgust, frowning. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the same hand you were just using on Li Yingying’s thigh.”

“Good memory,” Ying Xi said breezily, then grew serious. “Honestly, women like Li Yingying aren’t so bad—beautiful, alluring, always smiling at men without asking for promises, knowing when to advance and retreat. That’s why so many men like women like her.”

“No demands, knowing when to let go—it’s only because there’s no love in her heart.” Lu Hehuan’s voice was scornful.

“A little pleasure is enough. Love is too much trouble… That’s why I prefer women of the night. Women are like clothes—you wear them when you want, take them off when you wish. Convenient.” Ying Xi revealed his philosophy without shame.

Lu Hehuan shrugged helplessly. “God, I’ll never understand you.”

Ying Xi stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Likewise, I’ll never understand you—especially your obsession with Ling Yan. Listen to me, Lu Hehuan. Let go. Once love turns into obsession, it becomes tragedy.”

Lu Hehuan sighed, gazing at the sunset. “Whether it’s joy or sorrow, I have to find Ling Yan and see it through to the end.”

Ying Xi was moved. He patted Lu Hehuan on the shoulder and turned the conversation. “Detective Lu, you don’t have time to be sentimental. Today is already the third day since Da Bao’s murder. If we don’t solve the case soon, not only will you and Ling Yan end in tragedy, but so will you and I.”

Lu Hehuan looked at him, and Ying Xi nodded solemnly. “Did you get any leads at Da Bao’s house?”

Lu Hehuan shook her head, looking dejected. “I checked Li Yingying’s heels. The broken heel fragment isn’t hers.”

“Not hers? Then finding the owner just got much harder.” Ying Xi scratched his head, troubled.

Lu Hehuan bit her lip, her gaze resolute. “That fragment was likely left by the killer. We must find its owner, no matter what.”

“Do you have any leads?” Ying Xi asked.

Lu Hehuan paused, then shook her head. “None.”

“In that case, let’s take a break. Work and rest make for higher efficiency.”

“How do you propose we relax?”

“By drinking at a brothel, of course.” Ying Xi’s grin was wicked.

“A brothel?” Lu Hehuan was shocked, shaking her head. “No!”

“Just a drink, nothing else,” Ying Xi cajoled.

“No!” Lu Hehuan turned away stubbornly and quickened her pace.

As night fell, the city lights of Shanghai glimmered. Over the entrance of “Zhi Yin House,” neon characters flickered, casting an air of intrigue.

Dragged inside by Ying Xi, Lu Hehuan was instantly surrounded by a throng of stylish, world-weary young women. Ying Xi bantered with the ladies, while Lu Hehuan, frowning, tried to hide behind him.

“Detective Ying, it’s been ages since your last visit,” a woman in a flamboyant red dress purred as she sidled up to him.

“Did you miss me?” Ying Xi flirted back.

“Of course I did.”

Just then, a woman in white caught sight of Lu Hehuan and giggled. “My, is this your first time here, handsome?”

Lu Hehuan nodded honestly.

Ying Xi glanced mischievously around at the gathered women. “Let’s see if any of you can get him to come back a second or third time.”

At those words, the women crowded forward, pulling at Lu Hehuan.

He squirmed uncomfortably, fending them off. “Please, have some respect.”

The woman in white laughed, covering her mouth suggestively. “If we respected ourselves, how could you possibly have any fun?”

Lu Hehuan quickly hid behind Ying Xi.

A woman in a blue cheongsam pointed and laughed, “Look, he’s actually shy.”

The women burst out laughing, and Lu Hehuan awkwardly wrung his hands.

Ying Xi, seeing his discomfort, waved the women away. “All right, don’t tease him—get us a private room.”

The woman in red pressed herself against Ying Xi. “Follow me upstairs.”

Lu Hehuan and Ying Xi hurried after her.

As they passed a private room, Lu Hehuan caught a glimpse of Zhu Wolong sitting at a table, surrounded by garishly dressed women pouring him drinks.

“Boss Zhu, fancy meeting you here,” Ying Xi called, eager to greet him.

Zhu Wolong paled at the sight of them. “Don’t tell Miss Bao about this, I beg you!”

Lu Hehuan remained silent, but Ying Xi waved it off. “Don’t worry, Boss Zhu. We’re just here for a good time ourselves. We know what to say and what not to say.”

“Detective Ying, you’re a smart man. Since we’ve run into each other, let’s have a drink together!” Zhu Wolong was all smiles.

“Let’s!” Ying Xi, ignoring Lu Hehuan’s disapproving look, dragged her in and sat at the table.

He poured drinks for Zhu Wolong, himself, and Lu Hehuan, then raised his glass. “Boss Zhu, my honor to drink with you for the first time. Cheers!”

Zhu Wolong, an arm around a beautiful woman, lifted his glass. “I love making brothers all over the world. Cheers!”

Ying Xi nudged Lu Hehuan, who distractedly drained her glass.

He refilled Zhu Wolong’s cup. “So, you prefer this place? To be honest, I’d rather go to the Paramount.”

“The Paramount girls may be pretty, but they lack the allure of these girls. They’re just not worldly enough,” Zhu Wolong explained unabashedly.

Ying Xi laughed and gave a thumbs up. “You really know your stuff, Boss Zhu.”

While they chatted enthusiastically, Lu Hehuan’s attention was fixed on the women’s shoes. She scanned the room—none of the seven or eight women were wearing high heels.

“How odd…” she mused.

“What’s odd?” Zhu Wolong asked.

Lu Hehuan pointed to the women. “Why aren’t any of them wearing high heels?”

The women tittered behind their hands, and Lu Hehuan flushed with embarrassment.

The lady in red tried to suppress her laughter. “If a gentleman would buy them for us, we’d be happy to wear them.”

Lu Hehuan was still confused.

Zhu Wolong, after another drink, explained, “You may not know this, Officer Lu, but high heels are all the rage in England. Here in Shanghai, though, they’re rare—only socialites and high-class escorts can afford them.”

Lu Hehuan nodded in understanding. That meant the woman seen at the scene of Da Bao’s murder, wearing high heels, must have been an escort.

As dusk deepened, the bustling scene on Avenue Joffre continued, but the Shuangxi Detective Agency had already closed its doors.

Liu Rushuang sat in the hall, while Bai Yulou stood before her, tweezers in hand, shaping her eyebrows.

“Ouch, be gentle!” Liu Rushuang cried.

Bai Yulou pouted. “I can’t, Sis Shuang, it won’t come out unless I pull hard. Try to distract yourself for a bit, hold on.”

“All right, just hurry up,” Liu Rushuang gritted her teeth.

Bai Yulou continued with the tweezers, while Liu Rushuang pinched her side in retaliation. Every time Bai Yulou plucked a hair, Liu Rushuang pinched her harder. Finally, they both yelped in pain.

At that moment, a small-time vendor burst in.

“Miss Liu…” Upon seeing their compromising posture, he hastily apologized, “Sorry to interrupt,” and turned to leave.

“Stop right there!” Liu Rushuang called. This vendor was one of her informants, stationed near the police station to keep tabs on Ying Xi.

He turned, face serious. “Miss Liu, I have something important to report.”

“Well?” Liu Rushuang pressed impatiently.

He steeled himself and stepped closer. “You wanted me to follow Detective Ying? I just saw him and Officer Lu go into a brothel.”

“A brothel? Really?” Liu Rushuang’s brow furrowed instantly.

The vendor nodded. “Absolutely.”

Liu Rushuang slammed her hand on the table in fury. “Bai Bai, come with me to catch the cheaters!”