Chapter Eleven: Li Qingsnow

Looking back on that rigid state, he still shivered involuntarily. At the time, Li Changqing’s consciousness was clear, but his body seemed to be driven by another will.

Bloodlust.

Slaughter.

Frenzy.

These emotions surged endlessly in his mind, and just as he was about to attack Tang Xiaoyu, they gradually receded, allowing him to regain control of his body.

This was precisely what he pondered—why did these negative emotions fade when he approached Tang Xiaoyu?

Unable to sleep, Li Changqing simply got up and continued drawing talismanic spells, gathering spiritual energy, striving to complete the General’s Arrival Talisman as soon as possible.

He worked until his arm was sore before finally collapsing into bed.

The next day at noon.

Outside, birds chirped crisply from the branches.

In the detective agency’s living room, Tang Xiaoyu was eating her “lunch.”

Li Changqing, clad in a T-shirt, held up a massive pane of glass, installing it.

After buying the window, he’d learned from the shop clerk that hiring a worker for installation would cost an extra hundred lang coins...

A hundred lang coins—how many talismanic spells could he draw with that? Installing a window wasn’t such a big deal; better to save where he could.

He studied the instruction manual, carefully pondering each step. From the living room, Tang Xiaoyu called out, “Li Changqing, maybe we should just hire a worker to help. It’s only a hundred lang coins.”

Li Changqing wiped the sweat from his forehead. “How come you’re suddenly so generous?”

Tang Xiaoyu’s face was worried, “If you break the glass, we’ll have to buy another one, and that’ll cost even more.”

Li Changqing: “...”

“No need, I’m almost done.”

He’d spent the whole morning studying this; if he gave up now, all that effort would be wasted.

Fortunately, Li Changqing managed to install the window smoothly, and Tang Xiaoyu’s worries did not come to pass.

“Mission accomplished,” Li Changqing said, clapping his hands, a smile on his face.

Knock, knock, knock.

Just then, the sound of knocking came from the door.

Li Changqing quickly picked up the milk from the coffee table, took a sip to moisten his throat, then threw on his trench coat. As a detective, he had to maintain his poise at all times.

He couldn’t leave a bad impression on a potential client.

He opened the door, and standing outside was a man in his early thirties, dressed in a suit, holding an envelope.

“Hello, this is Changqing Detective Agency. May I ask who you are?”

“Hello, I’m the assistant to the general manager of Linmei Group. Here is your payment.”

The suited man handed over the envelope. It felt heavy in Li Changqing’s hand.

He didn’t open it to count the money—that would be impolite. Smiling, he said, “Please give Manager Fang my regards. I hope our cooperation will be pleasant. Here’s my business card; if anyone around you needs a detective, I’d be happy to help.”

“That’s only proper,” the suited man replied, taking the card and glancing at it, then casting another look into the agency.

It was indeed strange—a detective capable of handling bizarre cases worked in such a shabby agency.

“By the way, may I ask how Linmei Group handled Hu Qideng afterwards?”

The Bureau Thirty-Six that had appeared yesterday was a mystery to him; he’d never seen any reports about such a department in public papers.

But with “Bureau” in the name, it was probably a federal agency—perhaps one dealing with special cases?

The suited man put the card in his pocket before answering, “That’s Linmei Group’s internal matter. I can’t reveal too much.”

Li Changqing’s eyes flickered as he probed, “Did you hire Bureau Thirty-Six to handle it?”

The suited man was not surprised at the mention of Bureau Thirty-Six; after all, this detective could handle strange cases, so he likely had some contact with them.

He nodded with a smile, “Detective Li, you’re a clever man.”

Li Changqing pressed further, “But since you could ask Bureau Thirty-Six to capture Hu Qideng, why did your group come to me first?”

The suited man frowned slightly, a hint of puzzlement in his eyes, “Detective Li, you know Bureau Thirty-Six has never been very interested in small cases like this. I’ve heard they’re understaffed. Our chairman had to pull some strings to get help, and Bureau Thirty-Six only agreed because we’d already provided the criminal’s address. They helped with the arrest, but I don’t know what happened afterwards.”

Li Changqing had already gleaned quite a bit from this exchange.

He didn’t dare press further, lest he say too much; after all, he knew little.

“Would you like to come in and rest for a bit? Have a cup of coffee?” Li Changqing offered with a smile.

The suited man shook his head, “Thank you, but I have other matters to attend to. Next time, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Of course, that last remark was merely polite.

Li Changqing watched the man leave, then turned back inside and sat on the sofa, placing the envelope on the coffee table.

Tang Xiaoyu picked up the envelope, opened it, and counted the bills, then split them into two stacks, “Eight thousand each.”

She took her own share.

With these two cases combined, they’d earned forty thousand lang coins. After expenses, Li Changqing’s account still had thirty-one thousand remaining.

The cost of drawing talismans was immense—a bottomless pit.

The four treasures of the study—paper, brushes, cinnabar—were all expensive.

Especially cinnabar, which was not produced in large quantities in this world; though not as costly as gold, it was still much pricier than in his previous life.

“Wonderful,” Li Changqing murmured, a smile of satisfaction on his face as he picked up his share.

The lang coin was different from the RMB of his previous life.

RMB notes had a faint scent of ink, while lang coins possessed a subtle fragrance that, after prolonged exposure, could become slightly pungent.

After putting the lang coins away, Li Changqing said, “I’ll go home later and bring the gift I bought for my sister. If any clients come by, let me know when I’m back.”

Li Changqing went to the bedroom and changed into a white T-shirt and a pair of azure jeans.

From his memories, his elder sister never liked his detective identity; whenever he visited home, he would change into this outfit.

He took out the bracelet he’d prepared for his sister, grabbed two thousand lang coins from the cabinet, and, together with the eight thousand on him, had a total of ten thousand.

He left and took the bus toward Donghai District in Nanlin City.

Donghai District was the old part of Nanlin City. The buildings here were generally lower and carried a sense of age compared to the city center.

At the Linchi Street bus stop, Li Changqing got off, glanced around, and followed his memories toward his family’s bun shop.

Linchi Street was famous in Donghai District for its eateries, many of which had operated for over a decade.

This street was both familiar and strange to Li Changqing.

Soon, guided by memory, he arrived at a bun shop called “Rain Listening Pavilion.”

In the afternoon, the shop was rather quiet, with no buns or steamed bread being made.

Inside sat a seventeen-year-old girl, frowning as she struggled through her homework.

“This question is way too hard,” she muttered, tugging at her hair. “What did the teacher say in class again? Ah, I’m doomed.”

She soon sensed someone entering, looked up, and exclaimed, “Second brother! You’re back.”

Li Qingxue instantly forgot about last night; she grinned, “Did you bring me something good?”

Li Changqing looked at the delicate-faced Li Qingxue and confirmed she was indeed his sister.

“I bought you a bracelet. See if you like it,” Li Changqing handed her the box.

Thank goodness...

Thank goodness he’d crossed over at eighteen; Li Qingxue was younger than his real age, so even being called “brother” caused no psychological discomfort.

“By the way, where’s our elder sister?”

Still focused on the gift, Li Qingxue opened the box and happily slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. “She’s busy in the back. A new batch of ingredients just arrived, so she’s preparing them.”

At that moment, a woman about twenty-eight came out from the back door. Her hair was tied up, she wore a white chef’s apron, and her hands were dusted with flour.

She looked much the same as he remembered. Li Changqing relaxed slightly and tried to recall what the former Li Changqing would say upon seeing his sister.

“Sit down. Dinner will be a while yet,” Li Lin said coldly, turning back to her work.