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墨書 Inktalez
The Blade Holds Divine Spirits. I have always believed in this saying.
This saying was from Zhang Yang to me.
The reason I believe in it is because I have experienced the fleeting moments of a beautiful life. Although I understand that choosing this path means I will inevitably face such moments in the future, they are truly painful to look back on. The feelings inside me are indescribable with words.
In fact, it was not long ago. After Zhang Yang came to our class as an external instructor, we naturally got to know his partner, Brother Chen.
At that time, I didn’t even know his name; anyway, Zhang Yang called him “Chen,” and we followed suit by calling him Brother Chen. Brother Chen had graduated from the police academy just a few years prior. Unlike Zhang Yang's reserved and stoic demeanor, he was a big boy with bright eyes, a cheerful smile, and a sunny disposition.
Although we saw Brother Chen infrequently, everyone had a better impression of him than of Zhang Yang. During class, Zhang Yang was not only serious but also quite fierce, often scolding us without holding back. In some practical and simulation courses, Brother Chen would occasionally be present. When we were being scolded mercilessly by Zhang Yang, he would jump in to mediate. But when he did that, he would also end up getting scolded by Zhang Yang.
“You’re such a goody two-shoes! With their unreliable looks, who do you think will be crying when they face a criminal?” Zhang Yang scolded while pointing at my nose.
Why are you pointing at me? You’re the unreliable one! You’re the one acting like a coward! At times like this, I held my tongue but cursed back in my heart. I didn’t care about being scolded by Zhang Yang; I only cared whether what he taught was useful. However, every time I saw him scold Brother Chen, for some reason, I felt sorry for him.
“Don’t take it to heart!” Brother Chen would quietly pat my shoulder after class, clearly worried that my fragile spirit couldn’t handle the pressure. “That’s just how he is; if you care too much, you might as well not live!”
He couldn’t imagine that my heart was bigger than a basin; I had long since let go of such trivial matters.
“Zhang Yang…” Brother Chen called him for the first time without using “Captain Zhang.” “He wasn’t like this before. As for me, I’m his new partner; my abilities are just average. It’s been two years now, and our chemistry is nowhere near what it used to be with his previous partner.”
A change of partners? Then what happened to his original partner?
Suddenly, I felt like I understood something.
“They were quite famous before. Most of those major cases you’re familiar with were solved by the two of them working together. When the incident happened, it was so sudden that no one really knew what was going on. In short, it seemed that in that moment, that guy gave up his chance at life for Zhang Yang. Since then, Zhang Yang’s personality has changed a lot; he particularly hates people who slack off during training.”
I sighed: “Hating oneself doesn’t mean you can take it out on others!”
Brother Chen widened his eyes in surprise. "You can tell from just that one sentence that he hates himself? I thought it was something no one could figure out, only someone who interacts with him like I do could see it! No wonder he often brings you up and praises you."
This was my intuition. If a strong partnership faced such a situation, the one who survived would surely blame themselves, hating their own weakness.
"Don't be fooled by how he is now; he was in a deep slump for a long time after that. He sat there staring at his partner's photo, not eating or sleeping for who knows how long. Every year during Tomb-Sweeping Day, when he's alone, he still sheds tears," Brother Chen suddenly laughed, sounding quite sentimental about Zhang Yang. "There will always be someone who can take that place well. Hey, girl, just watch!"
Pfft, you’re only a few years older than me; don’t call me girl!
However, Brother Chen's wish ultimately went unfulfilled. Not long after that conversation, he became the second partner lost by Zhang Yang.
The most terrifying part was that I was also present.
The incident happened quickly; the entire process was so simple that it hardly seemed connected to something as grave as a life being taken. An 18-year-old boy, drunk, smashing cars on the street and kicking at women passing by. A police officer intervened to protect the woman when suddenly a knife appeared—a stab from behind, piercing through the gap in the left shoulder blade and striking Brother Chen's heart.
The knife that struck Brother Chen's heart was utterly ordinary. We later examined the physical evidence and saw photos of it; it was a fruit knife, one centimeter long, folding, single-edged—hardly different from the one we used to peel apples at home.
And the person who was stabbed didn’t behave like they do in TV dramas, trying to say their last words while struggling to get up. No, his face turned pale instantly; he fell silent as his large, lively eyes lost their sparkle in an instant.
That day was when Zhang Yang had gone to a scene and I couldn’t remember why I was brought along as an assistant. I drew the scene diagram that day; I remember it being my best work ever—everyone praised me for it, even Zhang Yang smiled. On our way back, walking down the street under the blazing summer sun with cicadas buzzing annoyingly around us, we were both dressed in long outfits, sweat soaking our backs.
Brother Chen walked ahead while Zhang Yang whistled from behind. When I turned around to look, he still wore his Ray-Ban sunglasses with a slight smile on his lips. He stood in front of a cold drink stall, holding three ice creams in one hand.
I walked back and took one from him; we stood there at the stall peeling off the wrappers of our cones and tossing them into the paper bin beside us. Brother Chen had walked far ahead without realizing it and was already fifty meters away. After peeling off the wrapper of my cone, I exaggeratedly thought about how it felt like an oven—if I walked fifty meters with my ice cream cone, Brother Chen would only be left with soup!
In that moment of distraction, chaos erupted ahead of us. We saw a fight break out and dropped our cones to rush forward. So when Brother Chen fell down, we were just ten meters away from him.
Zhang Yang froze for three seconds as he saw where the knife had pierced. Then he suddenly went berserk—he threw a punch at the assailant's face and then kicked hard into their stomach.
Zhang Yang was a national Sanda champion, and the moment I saw him kick, I felt a sense of dread. That kick landed squarely in the stomach, a vital area of the human body that could easily be fatal. I suddenly realized that Zhang Yang's current mental state had completely detached from that of a police officer, so I quickly grabbed him from behind.
He seemed a bit disoriented; when he turned around, his instinctive response was to use police grappling techniques against me. Fortunately, I had trained in Wing Chun, which is particularly effective against grappling. So, instinctively, I spread my hands and countered. We exchanged punches and kicks for about half a minute before he began to calm down. It was then that I sternly shouted, "What are you doing? Call an ambulance!"
At that time, I still didn't understand Brother Chen's condition. He hadn’t been able to hold on until the ambulance arrived.
Zhang Yang was excluded from the investigation team assigned to this case; specifically, it was designated to another Criminal Investigation Team. No one from our team could guarantee that personal feelings wouldn't interfere with the case.
But we were both witnesses, and we recorded our testimonies.
I didn’t know what kind of emotions Zhang Yang felt as a witness; it wasn’t until I started recounting the events during my testimony that I found myself crying.
At that moment, it suddenly dawned on me what had happened, and I finally believed that everything occurring was indeed real.
I realized that until this point, I had never known his name was Chen Zhe.
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