Gao Muyang's face drained of color as Chu Lingyun finished her earth-shattering account. Every detail she described – the victims, the sequence, the specific locations – aligned with the meticulous fire scene assessment his team had painstakingly compiled. Details he knew had been kept strictly confidential.
Yet this girl knew it all, even revealing aspects *they* hadn't yet uncovered. In that moment, the bedrock of his lifelong materialist atheism quietly crumbled. Could such a thing as genuine clairvoyance truly exist?
Reason warred with instinct. Scientific conviction clashed violently with the terrifying possibility of the supernatural. After a moment of agonized internal struggle, Gao Muyang desperately clung to reason. What he'd just heard was simply too fantastical, too impossible to accept at face value.
His expression turned grave, his eyes locking onto Chu Lingyun's with intense scrutiny, searching for the slightest flicker of deceit. But all he found was her wide-eyed, guileless gaze. Nothing.
After a long, tense silence, a thought seemed to strike him. He abruptly stood and strode purposefully out of the cafe. Chu Lingyun watched, bewildered, as he made several calls outside before returning. She glanced anxiously at her watch. It was getting late.
Hesitantly, she ventured, "Um, Officer... I've told you everything I can. May I please go now? I have an early shift tomorrow..."
Gao Muyang seemed momentarily startled, then murmured softly, "It's alright. Just wait a little longer. If it gets too late, I'll drive you home." He offered no further explanation, leaving Chu Lingyun completely in the dark about what they were waiting for.
But she soon found out.Just as she was nervously sipping her now-cold coffee, a small group hurried into the cafe. They carried specialized equipment and testing devices.
Understanding dawned on Chu Lingyun with a sickening jolt. *He still doesn't believe me.* Gao Muyang had called in a team to scientifically verify her story – to test *her*.
Bitter disappointment welled up, freezing her in stunned stillness. All the fragile goodwill she'd begun to feel towards him evaporated. Her trust, it seemed, had been completel*He still doesn't trust me.*
The hurt blossomed, a bitter ache spreading through her chest. The rich latte she'd just sipped, still unswallowed, erupted from her mouth in a spectacular spray – like a celestial maiden scattering blossoms – directly onto Gao Muyang's face. He had no time to dodge the caffeinated deluge.
Just as Ye Tianzong and the others arrived, they were greeted by the sight of Gao Muyang drenched in a Jackson Pollock-esque splatter of coffee. He scrambled, trying to maintain dignity while frantically dabbing at his uniform with napkins.
The sudden eruption flustered Chu Lingyun too. She opened her mouth to apologize, only for the remaining liquid to trickle down her chin. Gao Muyang, anticipating another potential spray, reacted on pure instinct. He shoved her face firmly to the side.
The commotion drew curious stares from other cafe patrons. Gao Muyang wished the floor would swallow him, his ears burning crimson under the barrage of snickers from Ye Tianzong and his team. He focused fiercely on the coffee stains, but his flaming ears betrayed his utter mortification.
Chu Lingyun, equally mortified, abandoned any thought of *cosplaying a braying donkey* – making a public spectacle just wasn't in her. But the injustice! He interrogated her, doubted her, worked her to exhaustion, and now this! The unfairness overwhelmed her.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, but it was useless. Tears welled up, then overflowed, falling like broken strings of pearls. Right there in front of everyone, she dissolved into hiccuping sobs, pointing an accusatory finger at Gao Muyang:
"I... I came all this way! I've cooperated all this time! I've explained everything over and over, wasted *hours*! I've proven my innocence! So why won't you let me go? What more do you want from me?!"
Tears were Chu Lingyun's default setting under stress; now, emotionally shattered, she was unstoppable. She wiped snot and tears with her sleeve, the words tumbling out like machine-gun fire: "I can't take it anymore! You just don't believe me! You're bullying an ordinary citizen!"
"I came here *trying to help*! I wanted to offer useful clues! And this is the thanks I get? Suspicion! Humiliation! Hmph! I'm done! I don't want to talk to *you* anymore! I want a different officer!"
She wrenched her body away, presenting him with her back – the universal symbol of 'conversation over.'
Gao Muyang's personal Kryptonite: crying women. As a certified, card-carrying straight guy, his 'comfort' skills were nonexistent. He just stood frozen like a statue, staring helplessly as she wept.
Faced with this sobbing, uncooperative bundle of misery, and acutely aware of the audience, Gao Muyang floundered. *Was I really that harsh?* he wondered, though he genuinely didn't think so.
Seeing his utterly clueless, dumbstruck expression only fueled Chu Lingyun's fury. Her crying intensified. Her face flushed scarlet, tears streamed freely, and she buried her face in her hands, hiding from his bewildered gaze.
Ye Tianzong, Gao Muyang's friend, was a clinical psychologist currently at the municipal Grade A hospital. He'd been summoned to conduct psychological and psychiatric evaluations on Chu Lingyun.
"Niu," another member of the impromptu squad, was Gao Muyang's contact from the Traffic Police, there to lend their breathalyzer. The others held various instruments, ready for their tests. None of them anticipated this meltdown. Their test subject was now utterly un-testable!
Being Gao Muyang's *friends* (emphasis on the sarcasm), they instantly grasped the situation. Seizing the chance to stir the pot, they launched into merciless teasing:
"Come on, come on, you block of wood! Your girl's crying and you just stand there?!"
"Seriously, man! This is painful to watch! Open your mouth! Say *something* comforting!" They egged him on relentlessly, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort, determined to keep him roasting on the spit of public embarrassment.
But their goading only paralyzed him further. Chu Lingyun wept, her breath hitching, her vision blurred. All Gao Muyang could manage was to stare, wide-eyed, and silently offer her a fresh tissue.
From Chu Lingyun's tear-blurred perspective, however, Gao Muyang was *looming over her* with a terrifying scowl, looking ready to devour her. The offered tissue felt like a demand, *practically shoved* at her. Refusing seemed impossible.
So, naturally,The commotion drew even the cafe staff carrying trays to intervene. "Hey handsome," one chimed in, "girlfriend trouble? C'mon, real men know when to swallow their pride and apologize. No need to fuss over little arguments with your girl, right~"
Their relationship was now thoroughly misunderstood—no amount of explaining could clear the misunderstanding. Chu Lingyun's frustration boiled over into fresh tears, while even Gao Muyang, the ever-stoic iceberg, felt his composure crack. *These people are impossible!*
Gao Muyang believed he wasn't wrong, and his pride refused to let him grovel before Lingyun. Yet the situation left him no choice—without apologizing for his baseless suspicion, the crucial lead would vanish.
Torn, he raked a hand through his hair, desperately searching his memory for a solution. *What did I do when Mom cried?*
His father had died on duty years ago, shattering his mother. She never recovered, her mental and physical health crumbling, frequent breakdowns and tears becoming their grim normal.
As her son, all Gao Muyang could offer was silent companionship and meticulous care, a fragile balm for her anguish. Over time, the sound of his mother's weeping had settled over his heart like a clinging, suffocating fog.
Now, faced with similar tears, that old helplessness and despair surged back—a visceral, PTSD-like tide threatening to drown him.
With the situation reaching a critical point, Gao Muyang's brow furrowed so deeply it could trap flies. Finally, resolve hardened in his eyes. He turned and stomped out.
Lingyun's heart leapt—*Was he letting her go?* But his stormy expression sparked fresh fear: *Was he coming back to hit her?*
His intention, however, was far less sinister. He'd stepped out to call his direct supervisor, Sister Hong. Explaining the case's unusual complexity, he requested temporary leave to conduct the interview in plain clothes at the cafe.
Sister Hong swiftly approved. Hanging up, Gao Muyang's fingers brushed the coffee-stained fabric of his police uniform. A strange, unidentifiable emotion rippled through him.
Moments later, he returned. Lingyun looked up—and froze.
Gao Muyang had removed his symbol of authority. Neatly folded in his hands was the solemn police uniform. Dressed now in casual clothes, he looked like nothing more than a bright, approachable college student.
Before Lingyun could demand an explanation, he spoke first. Gently pressing her shoulder, he hesitated, then forced out the words: "Miss Chu... I apologize. My earlier suspicion was unfounded."
"I've removed my uniform," he continued, voice low but earnest. "I'm speaking to you now as an equal, just another citizen. You should feel no pressure. If my conduct was inappropriate, you have my badge number—file a complaint. I'll accept it."
"Let's be efficient. Will you consent to the forensic testing now? Clearing your name swiftly is in your own interest. This *is* standard procedure. My earlier... bluntness may have caused misunderstanding."
His action was an act of vulnerability—handing Lingyun the power to hold him accountable. Humble words, sincere apology, posture penitent... he resembled nothing so much as a chastened dog awaiting its owner's forgiveness.
The storm clouds in Lingyun's heart began to part, her anger dissolving. As her emotions settled, she finally lowered her guard. Calmly, she agreed to the tests. she just cried louder.y misplaced.