Late afternoon crept in as Zhu Yuan and Qingyi headed to the cafeteria after a long day of patrol. The midday rush had subsided, and Zhu Yuan, weary and hungry, hoped for a quiet meal. As they stood in line, the noise of the room faded, leaving only the hum of her thoughts—brief respite from the day's chaos.
Finally reaching the counter, Zhu Yuan picked up her tray, feeling a small wave of relief. But as she moved toward an open table at the Al fresco, the peace was abruptly shattered. Someone slammed into her from behind, sending her lunch flying in all directions.
The cafeteria went quiet. Even Qingyi, usually unbothered by mishaps, raised an eyebrow at the mess.
Zhu Yuan, already on edge from hunger and exhaustion, felt her patience snap. Without thinking, she whipped out her taser. "PUBSEC officer! Hands where I can see them!" The command came out sharp, fueled by frustration.
The man who'd bumped into her froze, hands up. "I'm sorry, officer!" he stammered, his gaze darting nervously around the room. He seemed in a rush, as if chasing someone, but Zhu Yuan's irritation blinded her to the urgency in his eyes.
Qingyi stood by, caught between amusement and concern, her lips twitching as she fought to contain a smile.
The man, sensing the tension, quickly offered, "I'll pay for your lunch. Really, I didn't mean to bump into you."
Zhu Yuan's jaw clenched. Apologies wouldn't fill her stomach. But before she could respond, Qingyi placed a hand on her arm. "Captain, it was an accident," she said, her voice calm.
Reluctantly, Zhu Yuan let out a sigh, her temper cooling just enough to let the man rush off to the counter. Moments later, he returned, tray in hand—complete with her favorite dessert, a lava cupcake.
Zhu Yuan blinked, masking her surprise with a stern expression. As she prepared to dismiss him, the man hesitated. "What's your name, officer?"
Her patience frayed again. "Just go," she muttered, not bothering to meet his gaze. The man nodded quickly, backing into the crowd.
A few days later, Zhu Yuan arrived at the station, ready for a mountain of paperwork. But something caught her eye. A small box of dessert sat atop her files, a note attached:Apology cake for what happened. — J.D.
She frowned, the name "J.D." unfamiliar. Had the man at the cafeteria given his name? She couldn't recall. With a shrug, she set the box aside, her focus on work.
As the day wore on, hunger gnawed at her. Qingyi strolled in, glancing at the untouched box."Secret admirer?"she teased.
Zhu Yuan gave her a dry look, but curiosity won. She opened the box, revealing the same lava cupcake. Her stomach growled. "I suppose a snack wouldn't hurt," she admitted, taking a bite.
"Try not to get crumbs on the paperwork," Qingyi quipped, grinning.
Zhu Yuan shook her head, amused. "I'll manage. I've seen worse."
With a mouthful of cupcake, Zhu Yuan shifted gears. "Any progress on the Hollow Syndicate case?"
Qingyi's expression turned serious. "Nothing yet. It's the longest cold case I've worked on."
Zhu Yuan leaned back, thinking. "We need to hit the smaller players. They might have leads."
Qingyi nodded. "We'll have to be careful. The Syndicate doesn't tolerate snitches."
Determination flared in Zhu Yuan's eyes. "We'll figure it out. Let's start brainstorming after this."
Hours later, with the station quiet and darkness creeping in, Zhu Yuan dozed off at her desk. A slight movement stirred her from sleep. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw a shadowy figure standing near her desk.
"Qingyi?" she muttered, still groggy. But as the figure stepped into the light, her pulse quickened. Another dessert box, another note:J.D.
Her heart raced as she glanced at the clock. It was 5 AM. She blinked, disoriented. Who kept leaving these, and why?
Suddenly wide awake, Zhu Yuan shouted into the silence, "Who the hell are you, J.D.?!"
The shout echoed across the room, drawing the curious stares of her colleagues.
Feeling the weight of exhaustion, Zhu Yuan sighed. "I'm taking the day off," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Packing her things, her eyes lingered on the box. The initials haunted her thoughts, but for now, she pushed them aside.
She needed rest—answers could wait.