Under the Cheongsam Skirt - Chapter 35

Dongfu Police Station

By the time the interrogation wrapped up, it was already 9 PM. The moment they stepped out of the interrogation room, Captain Yan Lifeng’s stern expression melted away. He clapped Xu Xing on the shoulder:

“Smart move. I’ve been itching to take those Qingshan Society scumbags down. The shit they pull—every day, another victim shows up at the station, but the higher-ups keep tying our hands. This cleanup’ll keep them quiet for a while.”

Xu Xing smiled. “Now they’ll think I’m working for the police—or some official.”

“Damn right,” Yan Lifeng laughed, then paused, eyeing him. “We were late today. You hurt?”

Xu Xing glanced at his sleeve, rolling up the cuff stained with blood.

“Not mine. Probably got splashed during the fight.”

“Good.” Yan Lifeng jerked his chin toward the door. “Let’s drink.”

The streets were empty, and most stalls packed up for the night. A few eateries still glowed warmly. The owner grinned as they entered: “Two taels of baijiu?”

“Hell no,” Yan Lifeng said. “We’re celebrating. Bring the good stuff—and some dishes.”

Xu Xing, having shared meals with him before, knew his tolerance. He shot him a look.

Yan Lifeng chuckled. “What’s that face for? You’d leave me here drunk? At least take me home.”

Xu Xing said evenly, “Won’t be convenient.”

“?”

“In a relationship now. Can’t bring just anyone home.”

Yan Lifeng stared, briefly wondering if he’d misheard.

“Remember our first drink?” He gulped his liquor, shaking his head. “I was trying to get you drunk for intel. Nearly puked my guts out, but you? Not even flushed. Never would’ve guessed—polished on the outside, but you drink like a fish and fight like a demon. If I’d been at the docks today, you’d have wiped the floor with me, too.”

It was the first time Yan Lifeng acknowledged his past suspicions.

Xu Xing remained unreadable. “Still think I’m Qingshan’s mole?”

Even after the brawl, his sharp features and immaculate bearing seemed out of place in the dingy, yellow-lit eatery.

Yan Lifeng’s voice hardened. “I’ll root out Qingshan. Became a cop for this. Why else swallow this bullshit? Every day, some embassy barks orders—any foreigner can kick us around. Might as well enlist and die like a dog.”

He lowered his voice, clinking glasses with Xu Xing. “But you? Whoever you are—you’re my brother now.”

This wasn’t just a test. Someone like Xu Xing—flawless in conduct and appearance—invited suspicion. Yet it was impossible to truly distrust him.

After two rounds, Yan Lifeng grew chatty. Xu Xing hummed along until Yan Lifeng suddenly grabbed his arm, whispering: “Heads-up. This isn’t public yet.”

“Mu Changfeng’s back.”

For a split second, something flickered in Xu Xing’s eyes—but Yan Lifeng, tipsy, missed it. “Been a while, right? No word from the south. No idea why he’s back. Chief Ji mentioned it today—apparently, Young Marshal Mu’s attending Gao Zongzhang’s banquet tomorrow.” He smirked. “If he finds out you’re the one who stole his wife, watch your back.”

Gao Yanqing—Director of Justice, a social butterfly who threw lavish parties. The legal community always got invites, and Xu Xing, as a rising star lawyer, was no exception.

Yan Lifeng didn’t actually know about Xu Xing and Zhao Ciqin. But he knew Xu Xing had handled the divorce that shocked Shanghai.

Xu Xing turned slightly, the light catching in his eyes—something unreadable swimming beneath the surface.

He didn’t answer immediately. Only after a slow sip did he reply, tone flat:

“Is that so?”