I work as a security guard at a cemetery, and I overhear the dead chatting about getting rich quick.

After Ning Zhi said, "The whistleblower is gone too," the table fell silent for a few seconds.

Lin Ye was holding the soy milk but didn't drink it.

The plastic cup lid was pressed into a small dent by his fingertip, then slowly bounced back.

Ningzhi saw it.

She didn't ask any further questions, but simply pushed the photo half an inch towards the center of the table.

In the photo, Gu Mingyuan is seen coming out of the side door of the teahouse.

Jiang Cheng stood half a step behind him, carrying a black briefcase.

The photo is not clear.

The streetlights are reflecting light, making the image blurry.

But some things are like that; the more blurred they are, the more they seem like they shouldn't be seen.

Lin Ye lowered his head and took a sip of soy milk.

cold.

The beany taste lingers on the back of the tongue, with a slightly astringent feel.

He put the cup down.

"What's the whistleblower's name?"

Ningzhi glanced at him.

"Liu Changhai".

She paused for a moment.

"I used to be an accountant at Gu's Cultural Tourism."

Lin Ye's eyelids twitched slightly.

He quickly lowered his eyes and stirred the soy milk with a straw.

A ring of pale white bubbles appeared in the cup.

Ningzhi stared at his hand.

"Have you heard of it?"

"The word 'accountant' doesn't sound like a good thing."

Ningzhi smiled.

"When you change the subject, you tend to use more hand gestures."

Lin Ye looked up.

"Do you reporters usually judge people like this?"

"Eating by watching who you are."

"No wonder you guys rarely get invited to meals."

Ning Zhi ignored his banter and took out a folded sheet of printing paper from her bag.

The paper contains screenshots of old news articles.

The title is quite ordinary.

A man was hit and killed while crossing the road late at night.

A photo of the intersection was attached below.

rainy night.

zebra crossing.

A truck with its logo blurred out.

Below that are the names of the deceased.

Liu.

Forty-three years old.

Lin Ye stared at that screenshot for a long time.

"Is this Liu Changhai?"

"Um."

Ning Zhi tapped the line of small print below with her fingertip.

"Before the incident, he worked in finance at Gu's Cultural Tourism. Two months prior, he had reported Jiang Cheng."

Lin Ye asked, "What are you reporting?"

"Forging contracts and documents, transferring project funds, and helping Gu Mingyuan with accounting."

Ning Zhi spoke slowly.

Someone was buying fried dough sticks at the entrance of the soy milk shop. The proprietress picked up a fried dough stick and stuffed it into a paper bag. Oil dripped onto the iron plate with a sizzling sound.

The sound made Lin Ye's back tense up.

"Where are the materials for the report?"

"That's all."

"How did it disappear?"

Ningzhi shook her head.

"I can't find out anything right now. I only know that the materials were submitted once, and then nothing happened. After Liu Changhai got into trouble, his family didn't cause any more trouble."

"Family members?"

"My wife moved away with the kids. The neighbors said the compensation was paid very quickly."

Lin Ye didn't say anything.

This "very quickly" doesn't sound like a good thing.

Ningzhi put the printing paper back into her bag.

"I didn't find out about Liu Changhai for no reason. Gu Mingyuan's people first contacted one of my colleagues and asked if any reporters had contacted you recently. My colleague covers the financial news, he's not tight-lipped, but he has a lot of connections. He said that the person who asked the question used to have dealings with Jiang Cheng's side."

Lin Ye understood.

"So you traced Liu Changhai through Jiang Cheng?"

"almost."

Ningzhi picked up the soy milk, took a sip, then frowned and put it down.

"This soy milk is really thin."

Lin Ye looked at her.

"The place you arranged to meet."

"It's cheap and close to you."

"And it's bad luck."

Ningzhi glanced at the Qingshan Cemetery across the street.

"You're just a night shift security guard at a cemetery, and you think a soy milk shop is unlucky?"

Lin Ye didn't respond immediately.

That makes sense.

But it doesn't sound good.

It was getting dark outside the soy milk shop.

The streetlights at the entrance of the cemetery came on, illuminating a small patch of grayish-white cement.

Two old men sat at the door, eating fried dough sticks and arguing about whether the soy milk had been diluted with too much water.

One of the voices was very loud.

"Yesterday it still tasted like beans, but today it tastes like dishwater."

The proprietress yelled through the oil pan, "If you don't like it watery, don't drink it. Pay the bill first."

Despite the lively atmosphere, Lin Ye felt increasingly uneasy as he sat there.

He lowered his voice.

"Don't send this message yet."

Ningzhi looked up.

"On what grounds?"

"Liu Changhai is already dead."

Her finger hovered over the side of the cup.

Lin Ye looked at her.

"Gu Mingyuan's people are investigating me, and they know you've been in contact with me. If you keep digging into Jiang Cheng and Liu Changhai's background, it's hard to say whether the article will be published, but you'll definitely be the first to be targeted."

Ning Zhi stopped laughing.

She sat on the plastic chair, her back slowly leaning against the backrest.

"You know more than I have."

Lin Ye didn't respond.

The pocket watch cannot be mentioned.

Uncle Chen could not say.

Gu Wantang couldn't reveal the documents in her hands either.

All he could say was that it was dangerous.

Ningzhi put the photos away.

"I can hold off on sending it for now."

Just as Lin Ye was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she added another sentence.

"But I will continue to investigate."

"no."

"It's not up to you."

Lin Ye rubbed his temples.

"Ning Zhi, this isn't just ordinary gossip about wealthy families."

"I know."

"you do not know."

"I know Liu Changhai is dead, I know Gu Mingyuan's people are investigating you, and I also know that Jiang Cheng met with Gu Mingyuan last night."

Ningzhi looked at him.

"This is enough for me to continue my investigation."

Lin Ye was so annoyed by her.

He suddenly remembered Gu Wantang's words, "If she comes to you, don't tell anyone about the pocket watch and Uncle Chen."

Before leaving, he sent a message to Gu Wantang.

Ning Zhi asked me to meet her at the soy milk shop near the cemetery entrance, saying she had clues about Jiang Cheng.

Gu Wantang replied with two sentences.

Crowded places.

Don't mention the pocket watch or Uncle Chen.

Lin Ye thought she was being too cautious at the time.

In hindsight, she wasn't being cautious.

She knew Ning Zhi was the kind of person who could find a clue in a seemingly trivial statement.

Lin Ye put down his cup.

"I can only tell you one thing."

Ningzhi sat up a little straighter.

"you say."

"There are indeed problems with the Gu family's will."

Ning Zhi's eyes lit up.

Lin Ye immediately said, "You can't write it."

The light was pushed back down again.

Ningzhi stared at him.

"What do you mean by that? You let me smell the aroma of the food, then take the pot away?"

"You need direction, I'll give you direction."

"Where's the evidence?"

"Don't touch it."

"In Gu Wantang's hands?"

Lin Ye shut up.

Ning Zhi looked at him for a few seconds, then lowered her head and wrote a few words in her notebook.

Gu family will.

Gu Wantang.

Jiang Cheng.

Liu Changhai.

Lin Ye felt a chill run down his spine.

"Could you please not write this down in front of me?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"This doesn't feel like an interview; it feels like you're taking my statement."

Ning Zhi's pen never stopped.

"If you're willing to explain properly, I won't need to guess."

Just as Lin Ye was about to speak, she suddenly stopped.

Her gaze went past Lin Ye's shoulder and towards the outside of the shop.

Lin Ye did not turn around immediately.

He first glanced at the stainless steel tissue box on the plastic table.

The tissue box has a very dim reflective surface.

But you can still see a gray bread truck parked on the side of the road outside the door.

The car window was rolled down halfway.

Someone inside was holding up a cell phone.

The camera is pointed in their direction.

Lin Ye's hand slowly tightened.

Ningzhi picked up the soy milk cup and used it to cover half of her face.

"Don't keep looking."

Lin Ye turned his gaze away.

"Do you know him?"

"I don't know him."

"reporter?"

"Reporters aren't that stupid."

Ningzhi zipped up the bag.

"They're probably after you."

The proprietress brought over the fried dough sticks and placed them on the table.

"Two fried dough sticks, while they're hot."

Lin Ye looked at the fried dough sticks on the plate.

The fried dough sticks were still steaming hot.

But he had no appetite at all.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Gu Wantang.

Someone was taking pictures of me and Ningzhi outside the soy milk shop.

Sent successfully.

Less than ten seconds later, the bread truck lights came on.

Ningzhi got up and walked out.

Lin Ye grabbed her sleeve.

"What are you doing?"

"License plate."

"Don't be crazy."

"Let go."

Her voice was low, but steady.

Lin Yesong was a beat slower, but Ning Zhi had already pulled back her sleeves and walked quickly to the door.

The bread truck didn't immediately speed up.

The driver probably didn't expect her to come out directly.

As soon as the car passed the streetlight, Ningzhi raised her phone.

Click.

The sound wasn't loud.

Lin Ye heard it.

The van accelerated suddenly and drove away along the road outside the cemetery.

Ningzhi stood at the door and zoomed in on the photo.

Lin Ye walked over, his heart still pounding.

"You got a picture?"

"I can recognize the last four digits."

She showed him the screen.

The photo is blurry, and the license plate is even blurrier.

But the last four are indeed noticeable.

Just as Lin Ye was about to speak, his phone vibrated.

Gu Wantang replied to the message.

Don't go back to the cemetery.

Stand in a crowded place.

Lin Ye looked up at the gate of Qingshan Cemetery.

There weren't many people at the entrance.

A breeze blew out from inside, and the pine needles by the roadside rustled softly.

Ningzhi caught a glimpse of his screen.

"She replied quite quickly."

"Now is not the time to talk about this."

"I didn't say anything."

Ningzhi paused, then looked at him again.

"But she is indeed very worried about you."

Lin Ye looked at her.

"Reporter Ning, if you keep talking nonsense, I'm going back to the cemetery to chat with the dead right now, I won't talk to you."

Ningzhi smiled.

After laughing, she glanced at him again.

"What you're saying doesn't sound like a metaphor."

Lin Ye's heart skipped a beat.

He immediately turned around and went back to the table.

"The fried dough sticks are getting cold."

Ning Zhi did not pursue it.

The proprietress called out from the side, "Are you still going to eat? If not, I'm taking it away."

Looking at the two fried dough sticks, Lin Ye suddenly realized that this soy milk was more expensive than the coffee he had last time.

The coffee shop owner is just chasing money.

This soy milk brought out the person who was following them.

A few minutes later, the people Ning Zhi had called arrived.

It was a young man wearing a baseball cap riding an electric scooter. He almost ran over a plastic bucket on the side of the road when he braked.

Ningzhi sent him the last four digits of the license plate.

He glanced at the photo, and his expression changed.

"I'll go ask."

Ning Zhi instructed, "Don't use the platform, ask privately."

"Know."

The young man quickly rode away.

Lin Ye watched his retreating figure.

"Why are you reporters like underground intelligence agents?"

Ningzhi sat down again.

"You, a cemetery security guard, can get into the Gu family's conference room. Is it strange that we reporters have some connections?"

Lin Ye had nothing to say.

My phone vibrated again.

Gu Wantang sent a second message.

My people will arrive in ten minutes.

Go with her.

After Lin Ye finished reading, he put the phone down.

Ningzhi watched his movements.

"She sent someone to pick you up?"

"Could you please stop watching everything?"

"My eyes aren't closed."

Lin Ye was too lazy to say anything more.

Ten minutes later, a black sedan pulled up outside the soy milk shop.

A short-haired woman got off the car.

Around thirty years old, wearing a black coat, walking quickly.

She went to the table, first looking at Ningzhi, then at Linye.

"Mr. Lin?"

Lin Ye nodded.

"Miss Gu asked me to pick you up."

"Where to?"

"Let's go around and then back to the cemetery."

Lin Ye understood.

Check if there's a tail behind it.

Ningzhi stood up.

"I'll go too."

The short-haired woman glanced at her.

"Who are you?"

"reporter."

"no."

"That's the license plate I just photographed."

The short-haired woman's tone remained unchanged.

"Thank you. It still doesn't work."

Lin Ye lowered his head and drank water.

He didn't want to get involved.

Ningzhi looked at him.

Lin Ye shifted his gaze to the fried dough sticks.

In situations like this, he doesn't help anyone.

He just wanted to get back to the guard booth safely.

Ning Zhi snorted and shoved the business card into his hand.

"I'll send you the license plate number once I find it."

Lin Ye accepted it.

"You be careful too."

Ningzhi picked up her bag.

"Don't worry, I'm more professional than you."

Lin Ye recalled how she had rushed out to take a picture of the license plate.

That doesn't seem very professional.

Like being bold.

But she did manage to take the picture.

So he shut up.

As Lin Ye got into the black sedan, he glanced back.

Ningzhi stood under the streetlight and waved to him.

Behind her is a soy milk shop.

The oil in the pan was still steaming.

Beyond that is the dark, imposing gate of Qingshan Cemetery.

After the car started, the short-haired woman handed a bottle of water from the passenger seat.

"Miss Gu asked me to tell you not to leave the cemetery tonight."

Lin Ye took the water.

"I wasn't planning on releasing it anyway."

The short-haired woman glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

His gaze was calm.

Lin Ye, however, understood.

It would be best if it were true.

The car circled around two streets.

When passing through a section of road under construction, the driver deliberately slowed down.

Lin Ye glanced back.

There was only one food delivery electric scooter and one bus behind it.

The short-haired woman answered a phone call.

She nodded a few times, hung up, and told the driver, "Go around through the west gate."

The car turned in another direction.

Lin Ye held the water bottle, his palms slightly damp.

Half an hour later, the car returned to Qingshan Cemetery via another road.

The short-haired woman didn't get out of the car, only saying, "Call the number on the back of the business card if there's any trouble."

Lin Ye nodded.

"Thanks."

She glanced at him.

"Don't thank me, and don't wander off."

This sounds familiar.

Uncle Zhao often said the same thing.

Lin Ye suddenly realized that more and more people were paying attention to him lately.

But he is becoming increasingly dangerous.

He walked into the security booth.

Uncle Zhao has already finished get off work.

Only the anti-flood bottle remained standing on the table in the pavilion, and the flowers bloomed quietly.

Lin Ye placed Ning Zhi's business card on the table and then placed the business card that Gu Wantang had given him underneath.

A journalist's business card.

A business card belonging to Gu Wantang.

There is a fake bottle in between.

He stared at it for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

"You're quite good at keeping things under control."

The anti-floating bottle did not react.

It's not midnight yet.

We haven't even started talking about the East District yet.

Outside the security booth, the wind rustles through the pines and cypresses.

Lin Ye sat in the chair and wrote down the last four digits of the van's license plate in his notebook.

After finishing writing, I added three more words below.

Jiang Chengcha.

Just as the pen touched the paper, a soft sound came from outside the window.

It looked like something had hit the steps.

Lin Ye paused.

He looked up at the window.

It was pitch black outside the glass.

I can't see anything clearly.

The next second, there was another sound.

Hey.

It's very light.

Very close.

Lin Ye slowly stood up and gripped the stun gun.

He walked to the door and pushed it open a crack.

A white envelope lay on the steps.

No signature.

No stamps were provided.

Only three characters were written in black pen on the front.

Lin Ye Shou.

Lin Ye stared at those three words, a chill creeping down his spine.

The wind blew out of the cemetery, swirling up a withered leaf from the ground.

The anti-floating bottles in the security booth were quiet and still.

It seemed to be looking at the envelope as well.