Blazing Armor

After finishing his meal, Ren Yi hurried over to the squad. He had hesitated for a moment about whether or not to check in with Chen Xiaofei, but it turned out that Chen was out at a meeting, saving him from having to explain anything.

In the archives, Ren Yi found the two accident reports he needed. These reports had been digitally archived a few years ago, but the original documents would still be kept for 20 years before being destroyed. As he scanned the handwriting on the documents, he noticed that some of it belonged to his father, making it all the more familiar.

Ren Yi compared the original documents with the digital versions and found that the photo quality wasn’t ideal, affected by the lighting, angle, and camera resolution used at the time, as well as the level of care taken by the photographer. After all, with millions of paper files to digitize, it wasn’t realistic to expect every single one to be handled meticulously.

These materials were old to begin with, and if care wasn’t taken during the rephotographing, many details from the old photos could be lost. So, Ren Yi used his DSLR camera to carefully reshoot all the images and copied the digital files as well.

Back at the squad, Ren Yi printed out the materials. He placed the thick stack of documents on the desk, propped his chin on his hand, and thought for a while before pulling out his phone to snap a picture. He sent it to Gong Yingxian with the message: “I got the complete accident report from the squad’s archives. Shouldn’t you be praising me?”

Then Ren Yi stared at the chat box.

Several minutes passed before he saw the typing indicator appear on the screen. It stayed there for a while, but no message came through in the end.

Ren Yi chuckled. He thought Gong Yingxian was just like a kid—annoying sometimes, but he could never stay mad at him. He always found himself making excuses for Gong.

He sent another message: “Still mad? What are you, a primary school kid? So petty.”

A few seconds later, Gong Yingxian called. Ren Yi didn’t hesitate to answer.

Gong’s voice came through angrily, “Who are you calling a primary school kid? Who’s petty?”

“Me, okay?” Ren Yi’s voice was full of affection. “Still mad?”

Gong huffed and said coldly, “What about that actor friend of yours?” He practically ground out the word “friend.”

“He left in the middle of the night,” Ren Yi replied. “What did you eat this morning? What did you have for lunch?”

“…I had omelette rice for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch.” As soon as he answered, Gong started to regret it. Why was he responding to such a dumb question?

“Wow, that sounds delicious. I wish I could’ve eaten with you,” Ren Yi chuckled. “Your thermos is still with me. I’ll bring it to you next time. How about we have a meal together?”

Gong’s face softened instantly, though he still spoke with a reluctant tone. “Whatever.”

“Now, about these documents…”

“Let me finish up with the Wanyuan Community case in the next couple of days. It’s gotten so tangled up with so many people involved, it’s hard to wrap up cleanly,” Gong Yingxian paused for a moment, “I’ve also finished restoring those photos I had.”

“Great. Once we gather all the clues, we can re-investigate the fire.”

“Additionally, we got a lead on ‘Hong Yan’ today.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it.”

“Based on Xiao Tan’s undercover work at Seraph these past few weeks, along with some old case reviews, we suspect that ‘Hong Yan’ might be connected to a five-year-old body-burning case.”

“Body-burning?”

“Yes, five years ago, an elderly couple who were out for an early morning walk found a charred body under a bridge. The autopsy concluded the body belonged to a man aged 40 to 45, cause of death was blunt force trauma to the skull, followed by burning post-mortem. The victim’s identity still hasn’t been discovered, making it a cold case.”

“How did Xiao Tan make the connection?”

“He saw photos of the case on Seraph. The police never released any pictures, and these ones didn’t match the versions that circulated online from bystanders. That suggests the photos were most likely taken by the perpetrator. Xiao Tan tracked the poster’s ID on Seraph and found this person has been active for at least three years. His English grammar has numerous mistakes—mistakes that Chinese speakers commonly make. Moreover, the location where the body was found aligns with the area we’ve deduced ‘Hong Yan’ operates in, based on the geographic profiling three-circle theory.”

Ren Yi was impressed, “That’s amazing. If Zhou Chuan and Chen Pei can reveal more about ‘Hong Yan,’ you guys might actually catch him!”

“Exactly, but Chen Pei’s understanding of ‘Hong Yan’ is quite limited. If he knew more, he would’ve already tried to bargain. Zhou Chuan, on the other hand, has been holding back. He’s got the potential for a reduced sentence, so he’ll eventually spill.”

“Now that they’re all in custody, I’m worried ‘Hong Yan’ might catch wind of it and run.”

“We’re worried too. This case is one of the precinct’s top priorities right now. Everyone’s working overtime.”

Thinking of Gong Yingxian’s tired eyes, Ren Yi couldn’t help but feel a pang of concern. “You need to take care of yourself and make sure you’re getting enough rest. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Hmm.” Even over the phone, Gong Yingxian could hear the warmth and concern in Ren Yi’s voice, and he felt a wave of comfort wash over him, easing the tension in his brow.

“Don’t just say ‘hmm,’ will you actually eat and sleep properly?” Ren Yi asked, his tone full of concern.

Unbeknownst to himself, a slight smile tugged at the corner of Gong Yingxian’s lips. “I will.”

“Alright then, you go ahead and get back to work. Oh, by the way…” Ren Yi asked with a hint of hope, “How about we spend New Year’s Eve together?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and for some reason, it made Ren Yi feel a bit nervous. But then that clear and elegant voice came through: “Sure.”

After hanging up, Ren Yi pumped his fists in the air in excitement. Maybe on New Year’s Day, he and Gong Yingxian could go out for dinner, see a movie, take a casual stroll—have a real date, just like any ordinary couple.

He didn’t want to dwell too much on whether Gong Yingxian liked him back or if there was a future for them. Just being with Gong, even as friends, for a little longer, made him genuinely happy.

—-

After dinner and his evening class, Ren Yi locked himself in his dorm room to study the accident reports.

The Baosheng Chemical Plant case was extremely complicated. The reports alone—submitted by the various squad leaders and commanding officers—totaled over 300 pages. There were also specialized chemical investigations that he couldn’t make heads or tails of, and this was just the fire department’s portion. He couldn’t imagine how much more content the task force’s final investigation report must have contained.

After a while, he gave up on the chemical plant case, feeling too overwhelmed to continue, and shifted his focus to the Gong family arson case.

Even though he had mentally prepared himself, as he delved deeper into the report’s contents and reviewed the photos from the scene, Ren Yi’s emotions became increasingly entangled with that fiery hell from eighteen years ago. He couldn’t help but search for the tiny figure that must have been there at the time. Yet when he finally came across the sections related to Gong Yingxian, a sharp pain stabbed at his heart, leaving him at a loss for what to do.

The cruelest tragedy in this world is when fate leaves a six-year-old child to bear its weight alone.

Ren Yi read through several more pages, but the heaviness emanating from the thin sheets of paper made him feel suffocated. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Gong Yingxian—those charred ruins, the collapsed walls, the darkness and terror, the tears and pain. All of it pierced through the words and images and into Ren Yi’s heart. The mere thought of young Gong Yingxian trapped in such a nightmare—terrified, hurting, despairing, crying—left Ren Yi feeling utterly helpless, as though he were standing on the far shore of an eighteen-year stretch of time, unable to reach him.

He had saved so many people from fires, yet he couldn’t save the person he cared about the most.

Frustrated and unable to make any sense of the case, Ren Yi stared at his phone for a long time, debating whether to call Gong Yingxian. In the end, he resisted the urge.

Just as he decided to take a shower and go to bed, the alarm rang.

Ren Yi and the other soldiers rushed out of their dorms, quickly assembling in the garage and donning their gear in an orderly manner.

The duty operator reported, “Captain Ren, Hongwu Hospital, Hongwu Hospital…”

Ren Yi’s heart sank. “What happened at Hongwu Hospital?”

“Explosion!” The word landed like a bomb itself, sending shockwaves through the team.

The soldiers were stunned.

Ren Yi’s mind buzzed, but he quickly regained his composure. Snatching the dispatch order, he barked, “How large was the explosion?” He glanced down at the paper, but dispatch forms usually only contained brief descriptions based on the caller’s account—rarely with much detail. He couldn’t glean much from it and immediately ordered, “Everyone deploy, except for the platform truck.”

On the way, Ren Yi received further instructions from headquarters. They had also dispatched the Luoxiangkou and Sanning squads, and Chief of Staff Xu Jin was heading to Hongwu Hospital as well. The fact that they were mobilizing three squads signaled the gravity of the situation. It was the same response they had for the fire at Fourth Perspective Bar. But a hospital—especially one as important as this—was a far more critical situation. The soldiers were visibly more tense and serious than usual.

Just as Ren Yi was about to call for more information, his phone rang—it was Gong Yingxian. Ren Yi had a bad feeling.

“Yingxian, Hongwu Hospital…”

“Zhou Chuan, Zhou Chuan…” Gong’s breath was labored, a mix of intense anger and panic in his voice. “He might have been silenced.”

Ren Yi’s mind went blank for a moment. Then, a surge of rage and shock shot through him, his blood boiling.

These bastards—how dare they!