A Sharp Edge Emerges From The Mist Chapter 4

Warning

Two days had passed since Lin Jianfeng’s night visit to the Qingyuan Capital building.

The investigation had fallen into a strange stalemate. The surface clues of Zhao Ming’s case seemed to have been meticulously scrubbed by an invisible hand. The technical department had recovered the cloud backup of Zhao Ming’s phone, but the call logs and social media content were so normal they were boring—like a carefully scripted play. The scrap of paper pointing to “NL” and the Nanwan project became the sole piece of evidence. Meanwhile, the connection between Zhang Hai and Qin Mo was difficult to pursue further, given Shen Qingwu’s flawless responses and Qin Mo’s own explanation that he was “completely unaware, and his information might have been stolen.”

But Lin Jianfeng’s intuition was like a taut string, telling her that there were undercurrents beneath this calm. She expanded the scope of her investigation, re-examining all of Zhao Ming’s public and potentially private movements over the past six months, trying to find any trace left by the “missing hard drive.”

That evening, Lin Jianfeng decided to visit an old bookstore Zhao Ming used to frequent. The bookstore was located in a quiet alley in the old city district. The owner was a retired history teacher in his sixties. It was said that Zhao Ming was a regular, and the two would occasionally discuss “inappropriate” topics.

The alley was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side. On both sides were old brick walls covered in withered vines, casting mottled shadows in the fading light. The streetlights hadn’t turned on yet; there was only a faint yellow glow filtering in from the main street in the distance.

Lin Jianfeng slowed her pace, her hand habitually resting near her waist for easy access to her gear. Her senses had been sharpened to an extraordinary degree through years of criminal investigation. At this moment, a slight discomfort of being watched brushed against the back of her neck like a feather.

It wasn’t an illusion.

The shadow at the corner of the alley ahead was deeper than it should have been, and… it was too still. Behind her, in a recessed area piled with junk she had just passed, there seemed to be the sound of extremely faint, deliberately suppressed breathing.

At least two people. A pincer attack.

She didn’t stop or speed up. She simply moved her hand away from her waist and naturally tucked it into her jacket pocket, gripping the collapsible baton inside. Her heartbeat remained steady, her breathing long and even.

Just as she reached the middle of the alley and the shadows in front and behind began to move simultaneously—

A tall figure suddenly lunged from the shadow of the front corner, wearing a black mask and a baseball cap, holding a dagger in a reverse grip and charging straight at her! Almost at the same time, the sound of breaking wind came from behind as another person swung a short club toward the back of her head!

The moment the cold glint of the dagger reached her, Lin Jianfeng slid swiftly to the left and back. Simultaneously, she whipped the collapsible baton out of her pocket, precisely parrying the dagger. The metal collision produced a piercing scraping sound. Borrowing the momentum, she crouched low and swung the baton backward, striking the attacker behind her in the shin.

“Ugh!” The person behind her let out a muffled groan, their movement faltering.

Having missed the first strike, the attacker in front swung the dagger in an arc, stabbing toward her ribs again. The angle was tricky and the speed was fast—this was a trained fighting style, definitely not that of an ordinary street thug.

Lin Jianfeng moved forward instead of retreating, sidestepping the blade’s edge. She slammed her shoulder into the opponent’s chest and drove her left elbow hard into their stomach. As the attacker bent over in pain, she used the momentum to swing her baton upward, catching them under the jaw.

A soft crack sounded, followed by a cry of pain.

However, the person behind her had recovered, and the short club whistled through the air toward her shoulder. Lin Jianfeng didn’t have time to dodge completely; she could only lean her shoulder away and block with the baton.

“Bang!” The impact of the clubs made her arm go numb. The opponent’s strength was immense, and they coordinated well—as soon as one was injured, the other immediately followed up with an attack, giving her no room to breathe.

The dagger came again, this time aimed at the side of her neck. Lin Jianfeng rolled on the ground, narrowly avoiding it, though her jacket sleeve was sliced open. She knelt on one knee, holding the baton across her chest, her breathing slightly hurried. The two attackers closed in from the left and right, their eyes fierce.

Just as she was assessing the situation and preparing to fight her way out—

The sharp sound of tires screeching against the pavement suddenly erupted from the mouth of the alley. A blinding beam of high-intensity headlights shot into the narrow passage, illuminating the dim alley as if it were broad daylight!

A black Bentley sedan nosed into the alley with an almost arrogant posture, its front cutting off most of the path. The engine growled low, still running.

The sudden glare caused the two attackers to freeze, instinctively raising their hands to shield their eyes.

That was the opening, less than a second long!

Without the slightest hesitation, Lin Jianfeng sprang up like a leopard, her baton striking the wrist of the attacker holding the dagger with pinpoint accuracy.

“Ah!” The dagger flew out of his hand, hit the wall, and fell to the ground.

The other person reacted and prepared to swing his club, but the driver’s side door of the Bentley swung open. A burly man in a black suit—clearly a driver or bodyguard—stepped out quickly. He seemed to be holding something as he shouted in a deep voice, “Police! Stop!”

The two attackers glanced at each other and didn’t linger, decisively giving up. One helped his injured companion, and they both nimbly vaulted over a low brick wall nearby, vanishing into the darkness of the adjacent courtyard.

The man who looked like a bodyguard didn’t give chase. He quickly scanned the surroundings to ensure there were no other threats, then walked briskly to Lin Jianfeng, his gaze alert and professional. “Officer Lin, are you alright?”

Lin Jianfeng propped herself up on her knees, steadying her breath, the baton still in her hand. She looked at the man who had suddenly appeared, then at the black Bentley blocking the alley entrance. The license plate was familiar.

“I’m fine.” She stood up, retracted the baton, and looked sharply into the car. The dark window tint prevented her from seeing the back seat clearly, but she could feel a gaze fixed on her from within.

The bodyguard seemed to receive some sort of instruction. He nodded slightly and then said to Lin Jianfeng, “It’s not safe here. Officer Lin, do you need a ride? Or should I contact your colleagues?”

“No need,” Lin Jianfeng refused flatly. She walked to the wall, picked up the dropped dagger, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and placed it in an evidence bag. She then checked for footprints and traces left by the attackers. “What are you doing here?”

The bodyguard remained expressionless. “President Shen happened to be nearby on business and was passing the alley. She saw what looked like a conflict and told me to get out and check.” The explanation was seamless and entirely insincere.

Lin Jianfeng walked to the Bentley and tapped on the rear window.

The window slid down halfway in silence. Shen Qingwu sat inside, her profile still devoid of expression under the interior lights. She was wearing a dark blue cashmere cardigan, looking somewhat softer than she did at the office, but the sense of detachment in her eyes hadn’t diminished at all.

“What a coincidence, President Shen.” Lin Jianfeng’s voice betrayed no emotion.

“Good moves, Officer Lin.” Shen Qingwu’s gaze lingered for a moment on the slash in Lin Jianfeng’s jacket sleeve and her slightly disheveled hair. “It seems investigating cases is indeed a dangerous job.”

“A bit more dangerous than looking at data in an office.” Lin Jianfeng looked her straight in the eye. “However, what’s more dangerous is that someone always seems to want to stop me from investigating. And you, President Shen, always seem to ‘coincidentally’ appear at the critical moment.”

The corner of Shen Qingwu’s mouth seemed to curve slightly, so faintly it was almost invisible. “I am merely a passing citizen who saw an act of violence and asked my driver to help. Surely Officer Lin doesn’t suspect I have anything to do with the people who attacked you?” She paused, her words heavy with implication. “After all, if I really wanted to stop you, there are much more… efficient and quiet ways.”

Her words were blunt, even slightly provocative. But she had indeed pointed out a contradiction: if the attack had been ordered by Shen Qingwu, why would she go through the trouble of having her driver stop it? If it wasn’t her, why did she “coincidentally” appear?

“Maybe it wasn’t to stop me,” Lin Jianfeng said slowly. “It was a warning. Using a failed attack to tell me that I’ve touched something I shouldn’t have. And then using a ‘life-saving favor’ to remind me that there are some people I can’t afford to provoke.”

Shen Qingwu looked at her silently, the light in the car flickering in her eyes. A few seconds later, she looked away toward the dim alley ahead. “Think what you like, Officer Lin. However, my advice still stands: do not wade into certain waters lightly. Tonight’s ‘passing by’ won’t happen a second time.”

She rolled up the window. The soundproof glass completely isolated the world inside the car from the world outside.

The bodyguard gave Lin Jianfeng a slight nod and got back into the car. The Bentley backed out of the alley, smoothly merged into the traffic on the main street, and its taillights quickly disappeared into the night.

Silence returned to the alley, broken only by the faint sound of distant cars and the rustle of wind through the withered vines.

Lin Jianfeng stood where she was, clutching the evidence bag containing the dagger, her fingers tightening. The night wind blew into the tear in her sleeve, feeling a bit chilly.

Shen Qingwu’s final words echoed in her ears: “Won’t happen a second time.”

Was she warning that she wouldn’t help again? Or… warning that next time, it might not be so “gentle”?

She looked down at the brick wall the attackers had vaulted over. On the edge of a loose brick at the top of the wall, there seemed to be a fresh, dark stain that didn’t look like mud.

She walked over, illuminated it with her phone’s flashlight, and carefully took a sample.

It was blood. Not hers.

One of the attackers was injured, and not lightly.

Lin Jianfeng put away the blood sample, her gaze turning deep. The attackers were well-trained, coordinated well, and had a clear objective (to subdue or seriously injure her, not to kill her, otherwise they would have used guns), and they retreated decisively. This felt more like a professional intimidation or delay tactic.

And Shen Qingwu’s “coincidental” appearance cast an even more complex fog over the whole affair.

What role was she playing? Was she the warning-giver behind the scenes? Or… was she also a player in this deep water, forced to intervene because she was also being threatened?

Lin Jianfeng walked out of the alley and returned to her car. She didn’t start the engine immediately. Instead, she took out her phone and sent a message to the technical department, requesting an expedited comparison of the fingerprints on the dagger and the DNA from the blood, as well as a cross-reference with the internal database and all recent records of suspicious individuals.

Then, she pulled up the public information for Shen Qingwu’s company and its affiliates, her gaze falling on the complex shareholding structure diagrams.

It seemed that if she wanted to find out how deep these waters were, testing the waters from the shore wouldn’t be enough.

She needed to jump in and see for herself, more directly.

The light from the phone screen reflected on her face, her eyes determined and showing no sign of retreat.