Profile Psychology

Liu Huisheng’s hair was incredibly smooth. After washing it, a single stroke of a comb could glide from the crown to the tips. Yet, she detested a perfectly straight look. Every time she finished washing it, she would twist sections in her hands while blow-drying, creating natural, voluminous waves that draped behind her like soft seaweed.

Calamansi-scented body wash, Calamansi shampoo, Calamansi conditioner.

It wasn’t the cherry blossom scent she usually preferred, but on Zhao Yu, everything became easy to accept.

Her clothes were tossed into the washing machine. In the July heat, they would dry overnight just by hanging outside. She wore an oversized white shirt that fell halfway between her hips and knees. Her slender thighs, flushed pink from the hot shower, looked as smooth and poreless as fine porcelain. The shirt wasn’t fully buttoned; the top two were undone, revealing faint crimson marks on her collarbone—souvenirs of last night’s madness.

She did it on purpose, a reminder to Zhao Yu: despite her current cold detachment, the supposedly rational Captain had completely lost her mind the moment she saw her last night.

There was a profound sense of achievement in driving a rational person to insanity.

The takeout arrived quickly, just as Liu Huisheng was finishing her hair.

When she stepped out, Zhao Yu had already portioned half the food. She had even split the rice with surgical precision, as if cutting a cake along a perfect $1/2$ median line. She sat alone on the bay window ledge, eating in silence.

Avoiding me?

Liu Huisheng let out a cold inward laugh, picked up both meal containers, and sat directly across from Zhao Yu on the ledge.

Zhao Yu froze. She hadn’t expected her to come over. Though Liu Huisheng was covered in the Calamansi scent Zhao Yu used daily, she seemed to exude an extra, intoxicating fragrance. With a fleeting glance, Zhao Yu saw the seaweed-like waves of hair resting softly against Huisheng’s chest. It felt like a jagged wire from a construction site piercing her heart, igniting a wildfire.

Zhao Yu scooted back a few inches. “There’s a table, isn’t there?”

“Mm.”

Liu Huisheng’s voice was light as she gazed at the heavy traffic outside.

“The view is nice here.”

As she spoke, her collar slipped down. The marks on her collarbone sprang out like demons, making Zhao Yu’s eyelids twitch.

Zhao Yu lowered her gaze, her thin lips pressing together. She bit her lips hard until the flesh went numb before letting go. The words she wanted to say turned over in her mouth several times, tasting like bitter brine, before they finally emerged:

“We were both drunk last night. Act as if nothing happened.”

A clump of rice fell from Liu Huisheng’s wooden chopsticks, leaving only a few grains for her to bring to her mouth. She had expected this, so her face showed no change. She replied calmly:

“Of course. Right now, I am a consultant, and you are the Captain. We must respect the hierarchy.”

Zhao Yu bristled. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Between you and me… everything is in the past.”

“Oh… right. I shouldn’t stand in the way of Captain Zhao finding someone new.”

“Liu Huisheng, do you have to speak like that?”

“Like what?”

When it came to verbal sparring, Zhao Yu was no match for Liu Huisheng—not eight years ago, and not now.

But even if they were equally matched in an argument, what would it matter?

A bleeding wound hurts whether you let it rot or rip it open to the fresh air.

Zhao Yu looked away, shoved a large mouthful of rice into her mouth, and swallowed it with suppressed anger.

“Whatever you think, from now on at the bureau, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. I only care about solving cases.”

Liu Huisheng’s eyes dimmed for a fraction of a second before returning to normal.

“Zhao Yu, don’t think you’re the only one with ambitions. I have a PhD in Criminal Psychology. Did you think I have no goals of my own? That I flew all the way back from abroad just to chase you?”

“For your career, you’d give up anything,” Zhao Yu said pointedly.

“Correct. You’ve experienced that firsthand, Captain,” Liu Huisheng followed up smoothly.

“As long as you remember.”

They ate a few more bites. On the surface, it was calm, but neither had actually reached for a side dish in a long time.

Finally, Liu Huisheng picked up her phone, tapped the screen twice to bring up her WeChat QR code, and pushed it toward Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu paused, looking at her. She saw the fox-like eyes narrowed; though Huisheng was smiling, the warmth didn’t reach her eyes.

“Since we’re colleagues, adding me as a friend isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

Nothing else happened that night. After adding each other on WeChat, they said little. Liu Huisheng took the bed, and Zhao Yu made do for the night on the bay window in the other room. Although it was a two-bedroom suite, that second room had no bed—only a large dog crate, though there was no sign of a dog.

*****************************************

[Candice, how is the battle going?]

— Serena, a PhD classmate.

Liu Huisheng’s neatly manicured finger moved to reply with three digits.

[419] (Note: Slang for “For One Night”)

[Serena: ?]

[Sheng: You need to improve your English.]

Serena, far across the ocean, thought about it, read it out loud in English, and had an epiphany.

[Congratulations!!!]

Liu Huisheng could feel Serena’s joy through the screen and gave a bitter smile, adding a clarification:

[Sheng: Just 419.]

[Serena: It’s okay, a good start is half the battle.]

A faint sigh dissolved into the night. A good start is indeed half the battle. But a wrong start is half of destruction.

The No. 16 bus stopped at the station for three minutes, but it ultimately failed to restart. All the passengers got off, waiting by the road for the next bus.

Unfortunately, life isn’t like a bus; just because you wait doesn’t mean the right ride will eventually arrive.

**********************************************

The next morning, the suspect for the Tonghua Village homicide, Ma Kang, was apprehended.

Zhao Yu interrogated him personally. Ma Kang confessed to everything: how he had fallen asleep on the field embankment after drinking, only to be woken up by the victims at dawn. They demanded the lease fee, and in a drunken rage, he used a bottle to strike the man—once on the crown, once on the side—knocking him unconscious. Then, he chased the fleeing woman and struck her from behind.

After they fell, he sobered up from the shock. He gathered the glass shards, buried them in a different rice field, went home, and told his wife. Fearing prison, he convinced her to turn herself in for him.

“Ma Kang will be prosecuted for intentional homicide. The twenty thousand yuan in lease fees embezzled by the Village Chief’s family will also be investigated by the Discipline Inspection Commission.”

Chen Doudou typed the closing statement frantically. After the final period, she sighed with admiration:

“Solved in a single day. Our Major Crimes Unit is the best!”

The others chimed in:

“Efficiency was through the roof this time!”

“The new consultant really has some moves.”

“And she’s a total beauty, hehehe.”

“But it still feels kind of… mystical, you know?”

“Yeah, arrests still need to be grounded in hard evidence.”

When Liu Huisheng entered the office, a group was gossiping at the front desk. A sharp-eyed girl spotted her and swatted the loud-mouthed Cheng Bing to shut him up.

A hand pushed Chen Doudou from behind, forcing her forward. She stumbled, caught her balance, and squeezed out a cautious smile for Liu Huisheng:

“Sheng-jie, we don’t have a case right now. Do you want to go out for dinner tonight? Think of it as a welcome party for you from the unit.”

Liu Huisheng was always generous, especially with making friends. She glanced at the group behind Chen Doudou—they were pretending to work but had their ears pinned back for her reaction. She broke into a radiant smile:

“Sure. What are we eating?”

Chen Doudou beamed, her canine teeth glinting:

“Do you like BBQ? How about the place we usually go to?”

Liu Huisheng nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Yes!”

The office erupted in cheers, but the noise died instantly when a lean figure appeared at the door.

It was Zhao Yu, having finished the closing procedures.

Her short hair rested on her shoulders, and her lead-gray shirt made her look like she was forged from steel—indifferent and cold.

Chen Doudou’s smile became stiff as she offered a timid invitation:

“Captain Zhao, since we’re clear of cases, we’re having a welcome dinner for Sheng-jie tonight. BBQ.”

Zhao Yu gave a non-committal “Mm.” Then: “Which place?”

“The one Brother Zhang runs.”

“Too far.”

The next line, theoretically, would have been “I’m not going.” But Chen Doudou, a workplace rookie, didn’t catch the subtext and explained earnestly:

“It’s not that far, only about 10 kilometers.”

Liu Huisheng scanned the room. The Vice-Captain’s expression had slumped the moment Zhao Yu said “Too far,” and Cheng Bing was nodding vigorously when Doudou said it wasn’t far. They all clearly wanted Zhao Yu to join.

She thought back to the layout of Zhao Yu’s apartment: the tightly sealed curtains, the furniture as sparse as a prison cell.

Her heart felt a small tug.

Stepping forward, she smiled at Chen Doudou. “It is a bit far. But that’s fine; Captain Zhao and I live very close to each other. We can carpool back together.”

Chen Doudou couldn’t believe her ears. Three months in the unit, and she was finally going to have dinner with the Captain.

“Really?!”

Liu Huisheng smiled. “Of course.”

She turned to look at Zhao Yu, her beautiful eyes narrowing playfully. “Right, Captain Zhao?”

A muscle in Zhao Yu’s face twitched. She forced a sound from her vocal cords:

“…Mm.”