Zhou Jin said, “We were engaged once, but that was a long time ago.”
Yu Dan nearly rolled her eyes. “Could you give me the full picture? If Professor Jiang gets the wrong idea, you two are going to have quite an argument on your hands.”
Zhou Jin smiled. “You’re overthinking it. Hansheng has known about me and Jiang Cheng for a long time. He won’t mind.”
Yu Dan muttered, deeply sceptical about this claim: “Oh, really?”
Feeling curious about what Jiang Hansheng was saying to Director Liu, Zhou Jin didn’t linger to chat further with Yu Dan, and quietly slipped away to get closer.
She couldn’t get too near, so naturally she couldn’t make out the specifics of the conversation.
The three of them were standing at the window at the corner of the corridor. From her vantage point, Director Liu and Tan Shiming were out of her line of sight — all she could see was Jiang Hansheng, standing by the open window.
The window was open. A gentle breeze drifted through, brushing through his soft dark hair. His bearing was cool and clean.
A cigarette rested between his fingers, pale wisps of smoke curling languidly upward.
Zhou Jin’s brow furrowed. Since when had Jiang Hansheng taken up smoking?
Before long, Jiang Hansheng and Director Liu appeared to reach some kind of agreement. The two of them shook hands.
Director Liu then summoned someone, gave a few quiet instructions, and shortly after headed upstairs to the offices with Tan Shiming to rest.
Jiang Hansheng offered a word of thanks, then turned and walked toward the interrogation room.
Zhou Jin stepped in front of him to stop him. Seeing that he still didn’t look quite himself, she asked, “Why did you come?”
Jiang Hansheng studied Zhou Jin’s expression. After a moment, he said, “Just to check in.”
He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t ask why Zhou Jin, who had said she was going out to question someone before she left, had ended up here at the Major Crimes Unit.
He already knew the answer.
Jiang Cheng was her answer.
Zhou Jin asked again, “What did you just say to Director Liu — and to my mentor?”
Before Jiang Hansheng could reply, the two officers who had been conducting the interrogation walked over.
They greeted Jiang Hansheng first, speaking with ready familiarity: “Director Liu has given his instructions — we’re to cooperate fully with your work.”
Jiang Hansheng’s tone was mild and measured. “Jiang Cheng is, at present, only a suspect. Please treat him with the appropriate respect.”
The two officers had their own grievances to air, and looked rather sorry for themselves as they said, “Professor Jiang, he was the one who threw the first punch! We followed standard interrogation procedure and asked one question, and he came at us — who’s interrogating whom here, exactly?”
Jiang Hansheng showed no intent to reproach them, and simply said: “Undercover agents are conditioned to maintain a state of sustained vigilance over long periods. They become highly sensitive to the intensity of their surroundings. The lights in an interrogation room are extremely bright — that kind of brightness can very easily push their emotions to a flashpoint. Please dim them somewhat, and then shut off the surveillance equipment—”
He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch, then looked at Zhou Jin. “Zhou Jin, we have thirty minutes.”
This was the agreement he had reached with Director Liu.
Zhou Jin was taken aback. “…”
Jiang Hansheng looked at her steadily. The depths of his dark eyes held something gentle — though it was a gentleness as profound and unfathomable as an abyss.
He raised his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.
“Haven’t you been worried about him all this time?” he said.