1 Shao Lin

The water in the tub grew cold, but Shao Lin splashed her face, raising the gooseflesh on her skin to keep herself awake—alert.

It had been two months since her father's funeral, and the grief had followed her everywhere she went home, outside, in her sleep. Her father wasn't a perfect man. He had always been busy with his responsibilities, never spending time with her. Always working. And yet, in his own way, he showed his care and affection for her differently. He'd ask about her hobbies; he'd praise her accomplishments. He'd encouraged her to be spontaneous as long as it did not get her into any trouble. He gave her agency and yet he taught her how to be proper.

And regardless of his flaws, she loved her father dearly. She would always be loyal to him. But then she wondered why him? Who wanted him dead? What did he get himself involved in? Was she next? Her mind raced with questions.

Shao Lin rose from the tub, water droplets spilling from her bare skin. She swathed a towel around her body, looking at her reflection in the mirror. What looked back at her was a young woman, brown hair; brown does eyes, petite frame. Sweet, innocent, perfect, everything she was moulded to become.

And yet she felt furious, angry, and helpless. Angry that someone had taken someone she cared about from her. Agitated that her father kept secrets. Annoyed with herself for being oblivious of the dangers of his world and saw everything from a lens her father created. If he were here now, she knew he would say something like: I did it to protect you, to keep you safe. There are things you shouldn't know and I know what's best for you. I wanted you to live a normal life.

Nothing was normal now.

The crime investigators said his death was premeditated and so meticulously done that there was not a trace, no fingerprint, no weapon or anything that would point them to potential suspects. She spent so much money and resources to find out the truth and even the most intelligent detectives in Shanghai could not figure it out.

Shao Lin took some time to moisturize her skin, dried her hair, and dressed in a white blouse and black pencil skirt to meet with a new detective, one of the best travelling from Beijing to work on the case.

She passed the parlour of her home, into the sitting room, and ten minutes later, her butler stalked in with a guest right in time. She rose from her seat and her gaze locked with the detective and her breath stopped short.

Zhong Bai.

Her friend. Not just any friend. Her childhood friend. Someone she had not seen in years when he left Shanghai and never returned.

She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. He went by detective Zhong.

When she did her research on him, there were almost no records of him—like a ghost, save for the many cases he solved that credited him as Detective Zhong for his accomplishments. She had connections to contact him, and never realized it was the very same man that captured her heart and left without a word. No goodbye, no warning, nothing.

He looked the same as the day he left, only older and slightly more handsome. Zhong Bai had chestnut hair, rich brown eyes and a set jaw. His expression was aloof, yet beneath it, there was some discomfort. He knew they would be working together, and he knew she'd recognize him, and knew it would make her angry.

Breaking from her daze, she turned to dismiss the butler with a nod of her head. He made himself scarce before Shao Lin gestured for Zhong Bai to take a seat.

"Lin…" she heard him say with familiarity and wariness.

She pulled her lips into a thin smile. "Detective Zhong. Thank you for coming all this way to assist in my father's investigation."

She saw the swallow work in his throat, at how he flinched when she regarded him as if they had no history.

He then responded, "Of course. Once I heard you contacted me, I did not hesitate to accept the case. After all, Mr. Shao was like a father to me."

Shao Lin stiffened slightly before taking her seat. Their families had been close. It was the reason why they met so young, grew up together. She fell in love with him in their teen years up until they were studying in university. She loved him even when his feelings did not return; it did not matter. As long as they were friends, she'd accept it, so long as he was in her life and did not leave. But even then, he had disappeared without a farewell, and by doing so, he shattered the trust and the bond they shared together.

Despite their past, she would be formal with him now and get straight to the point. "Detective. Do you have any clues about what my father may have gotten himself into?" Shao Lin questioned as she poured two cups of tea.

He brushed his jaw with his hand. "I looked at the autopsy report of your father, and I found a clue that may have been overlooked."

She blinked. "What was it?"

He brought out a folder and passed it to her. Shao Lin took it from him quickly and glimpsed at a photo. "Damnit," she spat. "You could have warned me."

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable," he replied, desponded. "But it's necessary for you to see."

Shao Lin gritted her teeth. It was a photo of her father's corpse from his backside. "What am I looking for, exactly?" she asked impatiently. Bile crept up in her throat.

"Do you see the scarring on his lower back?"

Shao Lin narrowed her eyes. She looked closely. There were white jagged lines across his back, made into shapes. "What is that?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me," he responded.

Shao Lin shrugged. Her father rarely removed his shirt, and even if he did, she wasn't staring at his back.