In the provincial capital’s Public Security Bureau, the night was already deep, yet one person remained in the office, flipping through files. Since waking up in the crematorium, this once lively and cheerful individual had become taciturn, exuding a chilling aura, as cold as the freezer in the morgue that preserved frozen corpses.
Not only that, but after being discharged from the hospital, he spent day and night poring over household registration records. His colleagues had no idea what he was searching for. When his superiors asked, he would only reply with two words: “It’s useful.” As for what exactly it was useful for, no one could pry an answer from him.
His superiors assumed his strange behavior was due to the trauma of losing three out of four colleagues in a case they had worked on together.
Moreover, his actions didn’t negatively impact other work—it was almost like the bureau was conducting an early household census. So, his superiors indulged him, granting him full access to any records he wanted to examine. Little did anyone know, the person inside this drastically changed shell was no longer the original man but a soul from another world.
Qi Biao’s soul had been sent by an old monk into Lin Fang’s past life, possessing the body of a deceased police officer. For three full days, he lay motionless, allowing others to move his body around, silently observing and learning about this world. He even endured lying in an airtight coffin until it was transported to the crematorium. Only when the staff opened the coffin to prepare for cremation did he finally move, leading to his swift return to the hospital for treatment.
The original owner of the body he now inhabited was named Qin Yi, a police officer in his twenties who had died from gunshot wounds sustained while pursuing grave robbers across provinces. Of the three officers involved in the incident, only Qin Yi survived—thanks to the soul replacement. The sole uninjured officer later quit the force, unwilling to remain a policeman.
Though Qi Biao possessed all of Qin Yi’s memories, he still didn’t truly understand this world. During his hospitalization, he spoke little, sometimes going days without uttering a word.
After two months in the hospital and another six months of recovery, Qin Yi was finally allowed to return to work.
Upon his return, his superiors arranged psychological counseling and temporarily reassigned him to lighter duties. He requested to work in the archives, gradually becoming obsessed with searching through household registration records—his main goal being to find Lin Fang.
The name “Lin Fang” was common. Over a year, he had already identified nearly a hundred women with that name. Yet, none matched the Lin Fang he remembered. Undeterred, he continued his search, verifying each one in person.
After finishing the last batch of household records from a county in the province, Qin Yi rubbed his face vigorously to ward off exhaustion. The archives had computers, but he wasn’t proficient with them. Even simplified Chinese characters had only recently become familiar to him. Others attributed his slow reactions and occasional forgetfulness to his brain injury.
Additionally, not all household records were digitized. Many remained in paper form, requiring manual searches.
Qin Yi had just returned from a field investigation, disappointed once again. Though he hadn’t found his Lin Fang, he had uncovered new leads related to a case from two years ago.
Compared to his original body, this one felt weak—whether due to lingering injuries or natural frailty, he couldn’t tell. After just two sleepless nights, he was utterly exhausted, his mind on the verge of shutting down. Reluctantly, he packed up and headed to his dormitory near the bureau.
It was the beginning of the month, and the night was pitch black. Qin Yi walked with a flashlight, missing his former night vision and heightened senses. Gone were his lightness skills, his command over others, and even his martial arts—now reduced to what he once considered amateurish.
Another discomfort was sharing a dorm room with a colleague. Even after earning commendations, this arrangement remained unchanged.
Owning a private residence required either buying property or getting married for a unit allocation. The first option was beyond his means, and the second—without finding Lin Fang—was unthinkable.
A third option existed: obeying his parents’ wishes, marrying into another influential family, and inheriting the family business—ensuring wealth and property. But wealth wasn’t why he was here.
Fortunately, his roommate was on assignment and wouldn’t return for half a month, granting him some peace.
As he entered the dormitory courtyard and saw the light on in his third-floor room, Qin Yi’s expression darkened. He turned to leave.
Suddenly, the window opened, and a woman leaned out, calling, “Yi-ge, you’re back! Come in! I bought you pigeon soup since you’ve been working late.”
Two male heads popped out from the other window. One shouted, “Qin Yi, get up here!”
The other added, “Dude, we’ve got work tomorrow. Take this enchantress away!”
The woman giggled, “Xiao Fei-ge, how can you call a girl that? Your girlfriend’s the real enchantress!”
Xiao Fei yawned, “Whatever. The man’s here now—spare us. It’s late, and we need sleep.”
“Fine, go to bed. Next time your girlfriends shop at Huimeimei, I’ll give them a diamond discount.”
“Sure, whatever. We’re dead tired.”
Ignoring their banter, Qin Yi strode out of the courtyard. By the time the woman looked back, all she saw was his coat disappearing through the gate.
Though his martial arts were diminished, his stealth skills far surpassed anyone here. The woman chased after him but found no trace. The dark night and eerie surroundings unnerved her, and she eventually drove away in frustration.
Without a glance at the departing red car, Qin Yi returned to the archives. He refused to sleep in a room tainted by perfume. Tonight, he’d rest here. Tomorrow, he’d request another field assignment—another Lin Fang awaited.
The next day, as Qin Yi pushed his bicycle out of the bureau gates, a girl cheerfully grabbed his arm. “Brother, no matter what you’ve got planned, you’re coming home today. Mom promised me the yoga studio if I drag you to Xiaorong-jie’s birthday party!”
“Can’t. I’m heading out on assignment.” Though his tone softened, his expression remained stern. He’d only recently grown accustomed to Qin Ran’s affectionate gestures—the first time she hugged his arm, he nearly threw her off.
Xiaorong—full name Ji Xiaorong—was the woman from last night, the one his parents wanted him to marry. From Qin Yi’s memories, she’d long been infatuated with him.
Qin Ran, the original Qin Yi’s sister, was a yoga enthusiast. After graduating, she’d refused a conventional job or joining the family business, dreaming instead of owning her own studio.
Their mother, who owned a high-end yoga center, dangled it as bait—if Qin Ran could get Qin Yi to attend Xiaorong’s party just once, the studio would be hers. But Qin Yi never cooperated.
“Brother, what’s wrong with you? Before, even if you didn’t want to, you’d at least pretend in front of Mom and Dad. Now you’re ice-cold, giving no one face. No wonder they cut off your allowance! How am I supposed to get a studio on your measly salary?”
Qin Yi coaxed, “Xiao Ran, start small. Teach basic yoga, build funds gradually. Where’s the fun if everything’s handed to you?”
Qin Ran scoffed, “Spare me the lecture. I only agreed to ‘persuade’ you so I could escape for a bit. Do you really think I want Mom’s studio? So, where are we going this time? Last place had amazing lamb soup—any hidden gems this round?”
Qin Yi chuckled. “You’re supposed to be convincing me, yet here you are ditching the mission. Not afraid of getting scolded?”
Only around Qin Ran did he ever smile—he didn’t know why.
“Wow, brother, you’re so handsome when you smile! No wonder girls chase you. If you weren’t my brother, I’d fall for that grin too!” She clung to his arm playfully.
“Thunk.” He flicked her forehead. “Did you drive here?”
“Yeah! Wow, a cop on duty using a private car—isn’t that showing off?”
Qin Ran dodged another flick, grinning. Since his injury two years ago, her brother had developed a habit of tapping her forehead—she still didn’t know why.
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