A Sharp Edge Emerges From The Mist Chapter 3

Coffee and Code

9:47 PM, 36th floor of the Qingyuan Capital building.

Most of the office areas were already dark, with only a few scattered project team cubicles still lit. The central air conditioning emitted a low hum, mixing with the occasional rhythmic chugging of a distant printer to create the weary silence unique to an office at night.

Shen Qingwu’s office was located at the end of the floor, occupying the best vantage point. Outside the curved floor-to-ceiling windows, the vibrant night view of Shuangcheng stretched out, the skyscrapers of the financial district brightly lit like stacks of glowing building blocks. Inside the office, the lights were dimmed to a soft glow. On the massive curved desk, three monitors were active, displaying real-time data from different markets, complex capital flow charts, and a draft of an encrypted email.

She had just finished an online meeting and rubbed her brow tiredly. The recipient of the encrypted email on the screen was W. The content consisted of only a single line of flickering characters—a dynamic password she had written herself, generated in real-time and designed to self-destruct after reading. Just as she was about to hit the send command, there was a soft knock on the office door.

The voice of her assistant, Qin Mo, came through the solid wood door, sounding somewhat hesitant. “President Shen, an Officer Lin… wants to see you. She said there are some ‘details’ regarding the case that need further confirmation.”

Shen Qingwu’s finger hovered over the Enter key for a split second.

Lin Jianfeng. At this hour, without an appointment, coming directly to the company.

She deleted the unsent email, closed the dynamic password generator, and switched the other two screens to display the public annual financial report and a project schedule. Only after completing these tasks did she speak, her voice steady and emotionless. “Please, show her in.”

The door pushed open. Lin Jianfeng walked in.

She wasn’t wearing the formal shirt from earlier that day, having changed into a soft, smoke-gray knit sweater paired with black trousers, with a light jacket draped over her shoulder. Her hair was slightly looser than it had been during the day, with a few stray strands falling over her forehead. She didn’t carry a briefcase, only a worn black leather notebook. She seemed less like the sharp official from the interrogation room and possessed more of a… lingering, undeniable presence belonging to the night.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, President Shen.” Lin Jianfeng stood at the door, her gaze sweeping across the office with professional speed—the minimalist, cold decor, the expensive artwork, the spotless surfaces, and that breathtaking view of the night. Finally, her eyes settled on Shen Qingwu’s face. “There were some matters that weren’t convenient to ask about at the station today. I thought you might still be working late, so I took the liberty of coming over.”

“You are very dedicated, Officer Lin.” Shen Qingwu stood up and walked around the desk. She didn’t head toward the guest sofa but instead moved toward the built-in wet bar against the wall. “Coffee? Tea? Or water?”

“Water is fine, thank you.” Lin Jianfeng took a few steps closer, stopping a short distance from the desk. Her gaze seemed to casually brush over the monitors. The financial data looked standard and the project schedule was clear, but she caught a glimpse of an extremely tiny icon on the edge of one screen—one that blended almost perfectly with the black bezel—flicker once before disappearing. It was a prompt for some kind of background process, certainly not part of any ordinary office software.

With her back turned, Shen Qingwu took a bottle of imported mineral water from the mini-fridge and grabbed a clean glass. Her movements were unhurried, her hands steady. “What details does Officer Lin need to clarify that required a special trip?”

“Regarding the project information Zhao Ming might have accessed.” Lin Jianfeng walked to the side of the desk, an angle that allowed her to see both Shen Qingwu and part of the screens. “We’ve done a preliminary review of his work notes—the physical ones; he had a habit of writing by hand. There are several abbreviations and codes inside that point to non-public financial operation models. One of these models bears a structural resemblance to a risk assessment model used by Qingyuan Capital three years ago when bidding for the Nanwan Logistics Park project.”

Shen Qingwu’s movements didn’t falter for a second as she poured the water. She placed the glass on the bar counter and pushed it toward Lin Jianfeng. “The Nanwan project… that was a long time ago. That model was developed by the technical team at the time. After the project ended, the core team resigned, and the model library has been updated and iterated many times since. I don’t believe a journalist could have accessed such specific technical details.”

“What if it wasn’t technical details he accessed?” Lin Jianfeng took the glass but didn’t drink, simply holding it as her fingertips felt the chill of the glass. “What if it was certain ‘non-technical’ events surrounding that project? For instance, disputes during the land appraisal process, the sudden withdrawal of a competing company, or… an injection of funds from an unknown source?”

The air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment at the words “unknown source.” Outside, the city lights flowed silently.

Shen Qingwu turned around, leaning against the smooth edge of the bar with her arms naturally crossed over her chest. The posture appeared relaxed, yet it was an invisible defense. “Officer Lin, every large-scale project is accompanied by various rumors and speculations during its progression. I no longer remember many details from three years ago. If you have concrete evidence pointing to illegal behavior by Qingyuan Capital at that time, I can have the legal department cooperate with you to review all archived materials.” She paused, her tone turning slightly cold. “But if this is just speculation based on a dead man’s vague notes, I’m afraid this line of questioning is inappropriate.”

“It’s not speculation.” Lin Jianfeng pulled a folded piece of paper from her notebook and unfolded it. It was a blurry photocopy showing several lines of handwriting mixed with letters and numbers. “This was pieced together from paper fragments found in the cracks of the floor in Zhao Ming’s study. It mentions the abbreviation ‘NL’ and a date exactly one week before the final tender for the Nanwan project. According to the corporate records we checked, there was a shell company called Nolan Consulting that transferred a sum of money into the overseas account of a key evaluator three days before the bidding. The abbreviation for Nolan Consulting is also NL.”

Shen Qingwu’s gaze fell on the photocopy, lingering for about two seconds. Her expression didn’t change, but Lin Jianfeng noticed that her crossed arms tightened almost imperceptibly, her knuckles turning slightly white.

“That sounds like a serious allegation of commercial bribery.” Shen Qingwu’s voice remained steady. “But what does it have to do with me or Qingyuan Capital? I have never heard of Nolan Consulting.”

“The registered agent for Nolan Consulting is a man named Zhang Hai.” Lin Jianfeng put away the photocopy and looked Shen Qingwu in the eye. “Five years ago, this man was a junior analyst in the investment department of Qingyuan Capital. He resigned three months before the Nanwan project started. After his resignation, he seemed to vanish, only reappearing to sign as the agent when Nolan Consulting was registered. And in the emergency contact column, he left a number that has since been disconnected. The owner of that number was… Qin Mo.”

As the last two words fell, the office became so quiet that the faint rotation of the central air conditioning fan could be heard.

A crack finally appeared in Shen Qingwu’s expression. It wasn’t panic, but a freezing, sharp edge that appeared when a boundary had been crossed. She stood up straight, moving away from the support of the bar.

“Qin Mo is my assistant. It isn’t hard to understand how her personal information might have been stolen by a former colleague.” Her voice was a few shades deeper than before. “Officer Lin, if your purpose for coming tonight is to try and forcibly pin these old stories and baseless connections onto Qingyuan Capital, then our conversation is over. My lawyers will handle any further matters.”

She was issuing a dismissal, but her body language revealed more—her toes were turned slightly toward the door, a subconscious defensive posture and a sign she was ready to end the encounter. At the same time, her gaze flickered briefly to the time in the bottom right corner of the main monitor.

What was she calculating? Was she waiting for a message, or was she worried about something?

“I’m not here to pin anything on you, President Shen.” Lin Jianfeng took a small step forward, closing the distance between them. This distance entered the realm of personal space, allowing her to clearly see Shen Qingwu’s distinct eyelashes and the flicker of a suppressed ripple deep within those eyes that looked like frozen lakes. “I am here to find the truth. Zhao Ming is dead; before he died, he was investigating an old case that likely involved massive amounts of black money and commercial bribery. Zhang Hai is missing, and Qin Mo’s name appears in suspicious related documents. And the source of all these clues seems to point vaguely toward projects Qingyuan Capital was involved in.”

She paused, her voice softening but becoming more forceful. “I don’t care if there was a problem with the Nanwan project three years ago. What I care about is whether Zhao Ming died because he was about to dig up that problem. If he was, then the people who covered it up back then have more than enough motive to shut him up now.”

Shen Qingwu snapped her eyes up to meet Lin Jianfeng’s gaze. Their eyes locked in the air. Lin Jianfeng’s gaze was direct and open, carrying the stubborn inquisitiveness unique to a police officer. Shen Qingwu’s gaze was far more complex, with an indignant anger, a defensive alertness, and… a trace of something extremely hidden, almost like helplessness, churning beneath the ice.

“Who do you think you are?” Shen Qingwu’s voice was very low, almost squeezed through her teeth. “An avatar of justice? You think you can lift the lid off this city with a few scraps of paper? Lin Jianfeng, you have no idea what you are touching.”

“Then what is it?” Lin Jianfeng refused to back down. “Tell me what it is. If Qingyuan Capital is innocent, why are you afraid of me knowing?”

“Innocent?” Shen Qingwu suddenly gave a very soft laugh. There was no warmth in that smile, only endless mockery and exhaustion. “In a place like this, you want to talk about innocence?” She shook her head as if giving up on a pointless argument and walked back behind the desk, sitting back into the large chair as if it were a fortress.

“You should leave.” She no longer looked at Lin Jianfeng, turning her gaze to the vast night view outside. “I told you everything I could during the day. As for what you want to investigate, do as you wish. But I warn you, there are some paths that, once taken, offer no way back.”

The dismissal was final, her posture resolute.

Lin Jianfeng knew she wouldn’t gain anything more tonight. She placed the untouched glass of water gently on the nearby side table. “Thank you for the water, President Shen.” She turned and walked toward the door. As her hand gripped the handle, she paused, without looking back.

“I’m warning you too, Shen Qingwu.” Her voice carried clearly. “If Zhao Ming’s death really is related to covering up a crime, then no matter who did the covering, no matter how high their status or how large their protection… I will drag them out. This is my path, and I’ve never thought about turning back.”

The door opened and then clicked shut. The sound of high heels clicking against the marble floor gradually faded, eventually swallowed by the faint hum of the elevator.

Silence returned to the office.

Shen Qingwu sat motionless in her chair, staring out the window. The glass reflected her own face—pale and tense. After a long time, she reached out and pressed a hidden button under the desk.

A bookshelf on one side slid open silently, revealing the entrance to a hidden secret room. There was no luxury inside, only rows of data servers with flickering indicator lights and a wall of screens filled with surveillance footage.

She walked inside, and the door to the secret room closed behind her.

On the main screen, an encrypted communication interface automatically popped up. The chat box for W was flashing.

Shen Qingwu sat down, her fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard with a rhythm completely different from a standard typing method.

Shen Qingwu: The police found Nanwan and NL faster than expected. Lin Jianfeng came to see me directly tonight and mentioned Qin Mo by name.

W: Do we need to handle the traces on Qin Mo’s end? Or make Zhang Hai disappear “completely”?

Shen Qingwu: No. Do nothing. Any extra movement will only deepen suspicion. Keep things quiet on Zhang Hai’s end and have Qin Mo respond normally. Give Lin Jianfeng a new lead to draw her away.

W: What lead?

Shen Qingwu pondered for a moment, a complex light flashing in her eyes. She remembered the look in Lin Jianfeng’s eyes when she said, “This is my path, and I’ve never thought about turning back.” So stubborn, so… bright.

“Didn’t Zhao Ming receive a small anonymous Bitcoin payment a week before he died? Create a shallow connection between that receiving address and a laundering account used by the Xinlong bank in the last three months. Make it look like a fragment of data left behind by accident. Then, ‘accidentally’ let the police discover it while they are investigating another unrelated money laundering case.”

W: Understood. But this might make the police watch the bank more closely, or even alert the target.

“The point is to alert them,” Shen Qingwu said coldly. “Only when the water is muddy can you see what’s moving underneath. If Lin Jianfeng wants to investigate, give her a clear target to crash into. It’s better than letting her dig around aimlessly like she is now, eventually digging into things that truly shouldn’t be touched.”

W: Understood. Handling it immediately.

Shen Qingwu closed the dialogue interface and leaned back against the cold back of the chair. The only sound in the secret room was the low hum of the server cooling fans. She raised her hand, looking at the plain band ring on her ring finger, which gave off a faint luster under the cold light of the screen.

Lin Jianfeng…

She whispered the name in her heart.

The truth you want might be darker and closer than you imagine.

And I don’t know if leading you down that path is right or wrong.

Outside, the city lights remained as brilliant as a galaxy, silently looking down upon the surging undercurrents hidden deep below.