Pursuit and Capture
“Yo, Miss Pei, we meet again.”
Damn, it’s really a small world when you meet your enemies.
Lin Yan rolled her eyes, almost fainting on the spot.
Footsteps approached from behind, and Song Yuhang blocked the way ahead again, glaring fiercely with a hostile expression on her face.
A wolf in front and a tiger behind.
Lin Yan gritted her teeth and took a few steps back, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, who the f*ck are you?”
No sooner had her words fallen than she suddenly turned around, as slippery as an eel, and darted off faster than a rabbit.
Song Yuhang’s face changed, and she broke into a run to follow.
“Don’t run, stop!”
The person chasing Lin Yan behind heard the noise. He watched as a dark figure darted into one of the buildings right in front of him. With a swift motion, he pulled out a switchblade and followed into the building.
This was a typical tube-shaped building found in the urban villages, connected from east to west, accessible from north to south, hiding a variety of mahjong parlors, restaurants, dance halls, massage shops, and households awaiting relocation.
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Grinding her teeth, Song Yuhang followed to the building’s base, looked up just in time to see Lin Yan pushing aside a toy car of a small child blocking the way. The child burst into wails, but she swiftly jumped over someone’s washing basin and dashed away, desperate to escape.
She’s quite agile, isn’t she?
Song Yuhang was so annoyed she felt itchy in her teeth. Watching her run upstairs, she also sprinted below. Noticing that the stairwell of the building ahead was connected to this one, she dashed up, planning to intercept her from the front.
Lin Yan glanced over, no sign of the person below – she must be waiting to intercept her up ahead, while the pursuer behind her was still relentlessly chasing.
Biting down, suppressing the taste of blood in her throat, she ran up to the third floor and lifted the curtain of a mahjong parlor, tumbling inside.
“Yo, where did this woman come from, throwing herself into our laps?”
“Hurry up, it’s your turn, are you going to play or not?”
“Playing, playing, Pong.”
“Pure Suit, self-draw, I win!”1
……
The mahjong parlor was bustling with noise, shrouded in smoke, filled with men and women, both old and young.
Lin Yan, holding her nose, squeezed through the crowd, thankful that the throng gave her a moment to catch her breath.
The man following her plunged in after her, everyone exchanging looks, all eyes on the knife in his hands.
All was quiet for a moment, then the sound of shuffling mahjong tiles resumed.
“Come on, come on, keep going, place your bets, place your bets! Who will lose, who will win, make your final call!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Lin Yan caught a glimpse of a black coat darting into the crowd. The man with the knife, without drawing attention to himself, followed suit.
As Lin Yan walked, she pushed through the crowd, constantly looking back. Though the tube-shaped building was small, it concealed a unique world. All the shops were connected to each other; passing a mahjong parlor, lifting a curtain, she entered a foot therapy shop.
Calling it a shop would be generous; it was more like a small family workshop. The cramped room was divided with poor-quality pink gauze curtains, and from the bamboo mats came the ambiguous whispers of men and women.
“Yo, my dear~ be gentle.”
“Ow, ow, that’s the spot, put some elbow grease into it.”
“Oy, Lordy, am I massaging you, or are you going to give me a full-body massage, huh?”
A woman’s laughter, as light as barbells, rang out.
Lin Yan felt a chill run down her spine, stumbling forward. She pushed open a wood door plastered with old newspapers, and ran straight into a man’s chest.
The man was wearing a mask, and she didn’t recognize him.
Lin Yan stepped back several paces, watching in horror as he raised a knife, its cold light flashing by.
She dodged to the side, awkwardly knocking over a tea table. The knife struck the wooden door, shredding the newspapers.
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“Who’s that?!” The man and woman, previously engrossed in their massage, finally snapped back to reality when they saw a disheveled woman tumble into the curtains.
The masseuse let out a piercing scream.
The man, armed with a knife, lunged forward.
Lin Yan kicked him in the knee with little force, failing to knock him down.
The man paused, and Lin Yan, seizing the moment, grabbed the clothes that had fallen to the ground and flung them at him, covering his face.
When he was busy trying to lift the smelly clothes off his head, Lin Yan with a swift move, leaped onto the table. She then used her shoulder to break through the glass window, tumbling into the hallway outside.
The man finally got rid of the foul-smelling clothes, cursing loudly with the knife in hand. When he climbed up to look through the window, all he saw on the ground were shattered glass pieces and a few drops of blood.
He couldn’t help but swear several times: “Damn it.”
Then, he turned and rushed out of the room door.
The man and woman sitting on the bed looked at each other, still in shock, wondering, “What just happened?”
Lin Yan, clutching her shoulder, hobbled forward, her breathing as heavy as a bellows.
Song Yuhang had already reached the fourth floor. Glancing downstairs, she happened to see her entering a dance hall.
Turning her head, she descended the stairs and slipped in as well.
Inside the dance hall, the music was deafening, and the lights were dim, so no one noticed her injured and disheveled appearance.
Lin Yan pushed through the crowd, made her way to the back door, and pushed open the heavy fire-retardant door, stepping onto the fire escape.
Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes slightly and paused for a moment, continuously swallowing saliva. Her chest heaved up and down, and her face was pale.
After a few deep breaths, the taste of rust in her throat gradually faded away.
Lin Yan stepped down and emerged from the darkness, blocking the only sliver of light in the stairwell.
Song Yuhang pressed on step by step.
“Miss Pei, why do you run away as soon as you see me? Where are you going?”
“Or is it that you know you’ve done something guilty, and you dare not face the police, or maybe…”
She stared at her face, which looked extremely similar to Lin Yan’s, the smile on her lips carrying a hint of danger and deep meaning.
“Is there some unspeakable secret?”
Lin Yan had already gone downstairs, but she was forced back step by step.
To run – even at her peak, she could only tie with her, let alone now, in this frail body and with injuries. If she could fight, she would have already taken action against that man.
If she didn’t flee, facing her gaze, her voice, her entire being, she would inevitably feel her heart waver.
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But, the situation at hand wasn’t the time for romance. The assassin who was chasing her was still on the road; she hadn’t completely escaped the pursuit.
Staying here would only drag her into danger as well.
Lin Yan chuckled dryly twice: “Secrets? I’m just a person who runs a small business, how could I have any secrets?”
“Then why are you running?” Song Yuhang pressed forward, towering over her, looking down.
Lin Yan shrank back and climbed another step.
“Of course, you look so fierce and terrifying. The police were chasing me; how could I not run?”
Fierce and terrifying?
Song Yuhang touched her face. Normally, people would compliment her on her good looks or her valor. It was the first time she had heard this description, and she was somewhat puzzled.
However, there was no point in wasting words with a human trafficker. This woman in front of her was involved in a murder case and was a dangerous person.
Song Yuhang was about to reach behind her waist for handcuffs: “That’s right. If you haven’t done anything guilty, why would you be afraid of the police coming to your door? Come with me…”
Before she could finish saying “to the station,” Lin Yan caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye of a pair of black shoes slowly stepping down from upstairs. It was the man who had just been chasing her.
The knife he carried reflected a cold light through the iron railings of the stairway.
Lin Yan’s pupils shrank, and she grabbed Song Yuhang’s collar and closed her eyes, pressing forward, trapping her remaining words in her throat.
Standing taller, her entire weight bore down on her due to inertia.
Lin Yan cupped her face, Song Yuhang’s lips were as cold as ice. This familiar touch almost instantly made her spine tingle, and she nearly lost her balance, posing a risk of both of them falling.
In a flash, Song Yuhang’s instinctive reaction was to wrap her arms around her waist, turn around, and lean her against the wall to stabilize their posture.
The man chasing her, hearing the noise and rushing down with a knife, thought he was pursuing Lin Yan but instead witnessed this deeply entangled and sorrowful scene.
Song Yuhang was wearing a duckbill cap, a tuft of short hair behind her ears, towering over the average female, making it difficult to distinguish her gender from the back.
The corridor was dimly lit, the face of the person in her arms was unclear, and the two were embracing tightly, kissing as if they couldn’t bear to part.
The deafening background music of the dance hall blared out, probably from the passionate men and women who had run out from inside.
The man slowly put down the knife in his hand and walked towards them step by step.
Lin Yan’s heart beat like a drum, hugging Song Yuhang’s neck, maintaining this posture, and she didn’t dare to take a breath.
After a brief moment, like being shocked by electricity, Song Yuhang finally saw clearly who the face in front of her really was.
Although she looked similar, in the end, she wasn’t her.
A wave of guilt towards Lin Yan suddenly surged in her heart, and she subconsciously raised her hand to push her away.
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The man had already walked behind them, casting an inquisitive look. Song Yuhang naturally noticed it too.
She felt the warning signs of danger rising, her hairs standing on end.
Unaware of the danger, Lin Yan clung to her again, grabbing the back of her clothes. A pleading look, filled with tears, appeared in her eyes, and at the same time, she timidly stuck out her tongue.
If what happened just now was merely a shock, then now it was like a fierce fire instantly burning all reason to ashes.
After Lin Yan left, she never got close to anyone again. Yet here she is, facing a face so similar to hers, the shimmer in those eyes and the expression begging for joy from Lin Yan were identical.
Every move and frown of “Pei Jinhong” tugged at her most vulnerable nerves.
Especially because they were too close, toe to toe, belly to belly, breathing in sync, lips and teeth intertwined.
Strangely enough, though it was meant to avoid danger, she felt an unprecedented sense of security in her arms. Lin Yan, hugging her neck, closed her eyes slightly, fearing she might notice something, but in reality, her eyes were brimming with tears, and her limbs went soft.
To have the chance to be close to her once more was good enough.
Heaven knows how much she missed her.
In a moment of passing by, Lin Yan’s feigned feelings turned sincere.
She tiptoed slightly, offering herself up entirely.
Summer clothes are thin, soft rubbing against soft, and her movements exposed the hem.
Song Yuhang’s cold belt buckle pressed against her waist, bringing a shiver to her soul.
Their breathing was somewhat chaotic.
Song Yuhang didn’t know she was injured, only feeling that she couldn’t let her continue her reckless behavior any longer. After a brief moment of distraction, she gripped her shoulders, inch by inch separating them.
Perhaps due to the pain, Lin Yan’s face turned deathly pale, a muffled groan escaping her throat, which in others’ ears, didn’t sound quite right.
The man hurriedly averted his gaze, seemingly somewhat speechless, and quickly descended the stairs with the knife in hand.
With the crisis averted, Lin Yan slightly squinted her eyes, catching a glimpse of him disappearing into the stairwell with the corner of her eyes, and finally let out a big sigh of relief, completely releasing her, breathing slightly heavily.
Before she could speak, Song Yuhang raised her right hand high, her palm cutting through the air towards her.
Lin Yan turned her head away and closed her eyes, smiling mournfully, waiting for the slap to fall.
But the sharp slap never came after a long while.
Song Yuhang’s eyes reddened.
She looked up at her mockingly, “Hit me, why aren’t you hitting me now?”
Song Yuhang held her collar and pinned her against the wall, growling, “Don’t think I don’t dare to hit you. I am, I just…”
She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
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The fleeting moment of tenderness and engagement on Pei Jinhong’s face made her feel as if it was Lin Yan kissing her, and that sensation felt all too real.
She was haunted in her dreams; her eyes brimmed with tears.
It turns out, she wasn’t the only one secretly heartbroken.
Seeing her like this, Lin Yan felt both heartache and relief, and for some reason, a bit amused too.
Song Yuhang had kept herself pure for her, and also lost her mind in madness for her.
The dignified captain of the criminal investigation team, always mature and restrained, probably never imagined that one day she would be forcibly kissed by a “drug dealer.”
Thinking about it, Lin Yan really let out a mocking laugh, with tears in the corners of her eyes.
“Ha—why pretend to be so serious? You obviously enjoyed it just now, didn’t you?”
As she spoke, she brushed away her hand and straightened her clothes.
“Goodbye, oh, no, never see you again, I take my leave.” Lin Yan planned to walk past her to leave.
But then, a sharp “snap” sound came to her ears.
Song Yuhang pulled her back, tucked the keys into her right pocket, and jingled the handcuffs that connected her left hand to hers.
“I’ve finally caught the suspect; how could I let her go?”
By the end, her words carried a bite of deep-seated hatred: “Don’t you agree, Miss Pei?”
1. Pure Suit – It refers to a hand in Mahjong where all the tiles belong to a single suit (either bamboo, characters, or circles) and honors (winds or dragons). A “pure” hand in Mahjong often scores higher because it’s more challenging to achieve.
2. Self-draw – In Mahjong, when a player picks up a tile from the wall (the tiles that are yet to be drawn) to complete their hand, they can declare “self-draw.” This means they draw the winning tile themselves rather than claiming it from another player’s discard. Winning by self-draw can sometimes lead to higher scores or special bonuses in certain Mahjong rule sets.
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