Chapter Forty-Nine: Stirring the Grass to Startle the Snake

Zhou Yi squinted his eyes, looking at Meng Xiaojiao, who was tear-stained and distraught. He felt no urge to comfort her, yet her demeanor convinced him she wasn’t lying. But why couldn’t she remember? Was an “I don’t remember” enough to absolve her of involvement? In this mission world, the awakened protagonist Cheng Zhi was nowhere to be found. Zhou Yi had finally managed to locate someone connected to him, but she was so strange—could it be related to those hunters?

Puzzled, Zhou Yi stared at Meng Xiaojiao. Just then, the watch on his wrist suddenly grew hot, scorching his skin and making him flinch. He hurriedly raised his wrist for a look; the watch appeared perfectly normal, but the heat intensified as he lifted it. Remembering the control panel and Sofia’s words, Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes at Meng Xiaojiao.

Could Meng Xiaojiao be a new awakened one, or was she a hunter in disguise? A wave of unease swept over him, prompting him to grip the steering wheel tightly. If what Meng Xiaojiao said was true, and she wasn’t like this all the time, did it mean the hunter hadn’t fully taken control of her? Zhou Yi didn’t dare to risk it; he grabbed his phone and quickly dialed Fatty’s number.

“Captain He, where are you? Let’s meet up. You mentioned surveillance footage—can we take a look? But it’d be best not at the police station; Meng Xiaojiao is a bit afraid to go there.”

Fatty immediately understood Zhou Yi’s intent, snorted twice, and replied coolly, “Alright, wait for me to grab my laptop. We’ll meet across from headquarters. What’s your license plate number?”

Zhou Yi gave him the number and hung up, driving straight to the city bureau. Meng Xiaojiao was visibly anxious but remained silent. Zhou Yi glanced around; several people stood across from the bureau, and one of them was indeed Fatty, his hair disheveled, beard unkempt, a briefcase in hand, and impatience written on his face.

He truly looked the part of a detective—the expression and gestures were spot on. Zhou Yi pulled over, and Fatty had already tilted his head to look over. The people behind him didn’t move. Fatty opened the car door, slid into the back seat, and glanced at Meng Xiaojiao.

“You’re Meng Xiaojiao?”

Meng Xiaojiao nodded nervously. Zhou Yi glanced at Fatty, rolled up his left sleeve to reveal his watch, tapped it, and looked at Meng Xiaojiao. Then, with both hands, he formed a rectangle with his thumbs and forefingers. The sequence was swift. Zhou Yi looked to Fatty, unsure how much he’d understand, but Fatty scratched his brow and winked at Zhou Yi before opening his laptop bag.

He found a video and showed it to Meng Xiaojiao. “This is a still from the surveillance footage. Tell us, is this you?”

The video played. Though the resolution wasn’t great, when Meng Xiaojiao saw the man and woman getting out of the car, her eyes widened instantly. Fatty paused the footage.

He then played the surveillance from the military district that night—a clip Zhou Yi was seeing for the first time. Meng Xiaojiao moved with agility, flipping out the window and crouching to evade the guards before leaving the compound. The third video showed her returning home at half past ten, repeating the process: crouching beneath the window, grabbing the ledge, and leaping inside. The movements were fluid—far beyond what most men could manage, let alone a young woman. Zhou Yi was a little taken aback.

Fatty turned off the video, sizing up Meng Xiaojiao. “We didn’t wear police uniforms so you wouldn’t feel pressured, but you need to give me an explanation. That man, though masked, I think you know who he is?”

Meng Xiaojiao closed her mouth, staring at the screenshot. “It’s Cheng Zhi. I don’t think I’m mistaken. But officer, I swear I’m not lying. Lately, strange things have been happening to me. Sometimes I wake up wearing a jacket; sometimes my shoes are dirty. My parents ask me about things I’ve said, but I don’t remember them. I don’t know what’s wrong. I swear, since Cheng Zhi came to see me in July, I haven’t met him again. I’m not lying. Maybe I have sleepwalking, but I don’t even have Cheng Zhi’s contact information.”

Fatty looked at Zhou Yi and closed the laptop, rubbing his hair. “I understand your explanation, but it doesn’t add up, you know? Threatening the victim—it’s not about believing or not believing.”

Zhou Yi thought for a moment and looked at Fatty. “Captain He, maybe Meng Xiaojiao’s parents should take her for a psychiatric evaluation. Given what she described, it’s happened more than once. It might really be an illness.”

Fatty sighed, and Meng Xiaojiao looked at him pleadingly. “Alright, go get a diagnosis right away, don’t delay. Give me the report as soon as possible. Call me when it’s ready. I can pick it up myself if needed. The higher-ups are pressing us, and we’re frustrated with not being able to find anyone.”

As he spoke, Fatty wrote a number and handed it to Meng Xiaojiao, raising a finger in warning. “Don’t drag your feet. We’re already accommodating you as a student. We have your family’s phone number—we didn’t call directly to avoid causing trouble. If a police car shows up at your house, what would your parents think? A girl sneaking out in the middle of the night—even if nothing happened, it would look bad!”

Meng Xiaojiao’s face alternated between red and pale, and she couldn’t help but start crying. Only then did Fatty stop scolding her.

“Alright, you can take a taxi home. Teacher Xing, is it? Come with me to make a statement.”

Zhou Yi paused. “Ah, I have to go in?”

Fatty’s odd maneuver left Zhou Yi confused—they were both imposters, so how could they explain things inside?

Meng Xiaojiao hurriedly opened the car door, bowed to Zhou Yi and Fatty. “Thank you, Teacher Xing; officer, I’ll go for the checkup now. I’ll call you when I get the results.”

Fatty nodded. “Let me know when the results are out. I’ll come get it. I don’t know where I’ll be this afternoon; if you send it here, I might not see it right away.”

Meng Xiaojiao nodded and ran off, hailing a red taxi and disappearing down the street in moments. Fatty glanced toward the street corner and finally breathed out in relief.

“How did I do? Did it look convincing? What did you mean by the gestures with your watch?”

Zhou Yi realized Fatty hadn’t understood and sighed. “When we were at the university gate, Meng Xiaojiao was speaking to me in the car, and suddenly my watch got very hot. But when I checked it, nothing seemed wrong. I remembered what Sofia said—the control panel is our watch, which can alert us to awakened ones nearby. It will also warn us about hunters. Our watches don’t make sounds, so maybe overheating is another signal?”

Fatty widened his eyes, rolled up his sleeve to check his own watch—a worn mechanical one, already faded. While Meng Xiaojiao was sitting here earlier, his wrist had felt nothing.

“So you’re saying Meng Xiaojiao is an awakened one, or a hunter? But I was sitting here all that time, and nothing happened.”

Zhou Yi shook his head. The heat had only occurred once, and now there was nothing.

“I don’t know the reason. We don’t understand the hunters, and Sofia isn’t here. Maybe, like us, hunters can’t enter this world directly—they use people here to accomplish their goals. Another possibility is that, at the university gate, Cheng Zhi was very close to my car, so the control panel reacted. But that seems unlikely; he’s been hiding, leaving no trace. He wouldn’t reveal himself so easily, would he?”

Fatty fell silent, got out, spoke to the group of people, who nodded and walked off, then took the front passenger seat.

“Let’s suppose: if the hunter wants to help Cheng Zhi, hiding inside Meng Xiaojiao, could what we just did have alerted them?”

Zhou Yi shook his head. He’d considered that at first, but Meng Xiaojiao had been so close just now, and there was no reaction—so it probably wasn’t the case.

“No, I’ve thought about that. Meng Xiaojiao isn’t someone who can hide things. People can control their eyes and expressions, but sweating and a pale face are governed by the autonomic nervous system—not by conscious will. However, the periods she can’t remember might be problematic. If that’s so, it suggests the hunter can’t control Meng Xiaojiao for long at a time, which makes it even harder for us to manage.”