She Comes Into My Dreams Every Night - Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Most Phone Calls Are Sales Pitches

When Su Huaiwang returned to the room, Lin Jue was drawing.

She held a charcoal pencil, concentrating intently on the paper before her. Light particles descended, settling in her dark hair, casting a hazy aesthetic over her.

Su Huaiwang subconsciously softened her breath and footsteps, but Lin Jue noticed her the moment she entered.

The girl put down her pencil and smiled at her.

Su Huaiwang collected herself, forcing her gaze away from the girl.

She looked at the unfinished sketch. Although only a few lines were drawn, the outline of a house was clearly visible.

Su Huaiwang frowned, feeling that the vivid image on the paper looked familiar. But before she could carefully examine it, Lin Jue grabbed the paper, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash bin.

“I found a pencil and paper, so I just drew while waiting for you,” Lin Jue said casually, rising from the chair and approaching her, her eyes twinkling with fragmented light.

“What were you drawing just now?” Su Huaiwang asked.

“Nothing, just the house from my hometown.”

“Is that so? I feel like it looks familiar.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’ve been to Minguan. The local houses there are all very similar,” Lin Jue replied naturally, touching the ends of her hair.

Su Huaiwang’s gaze drifted past Lin Jue to the trash bin containing the lone crumpled paper. She pondered for a moment, then gave up on that inexplicable fixation.

“Why did you throw it away? Weren’t you going to continue drawing?”

Lin Jue shook her head: “No need to continue. It wasn’t drawn very well.”

Su Huaiwang was surprised. The fleeting glimpse she had caught didn’t match Lin Jue’s self-assessment.

Although it was only a glance, it was clear the person holding the pencil possessed skill. The stability of the lines alone was not something a beginner could achieve.

Su Huaiwang increasingly doubted Lin Jue’s claim that she hadn’t studied art, but there was no point in mentioning it now.

She placed the art supplies on the side table and asked, “So, should we do sketching or watercolor?”

Lin Jue glanced at the rather heavy pile of art supplies, then looked up, gazing at Su Huaiwang: “Whatever you prefer. Either is fine. But for sketching, I’ve actually already drawn one.”

“The house drawing just now?”

Lin Jue shook her head and pulled out a piece of paper from beside her: “This one.”

Su Huaiwang focused her eyes. The paper displayed the profile of a woman—the curves were soft, the lighting clear, and it was a profile Su Huaiwang was very familiar with.

She touched her own chin to confirm, then cautiously asked, “…Is that me?”

Lin Jue nodded proudly.

Su Huaiwang moved closer in disbelief to examine it.

Lin Jue was waiting for Su Huaiwang’s praise, but what she heard was: “Isn’t it a bit overly idealized?”

Although Su Huaiwang showed no significant change in expression, when she looked up, she distinctly felt a change in Lin Jue’s demeanor.

The light in her eyes was gone.

“Is it?” Lin Jue looked at the portrait again, then at Su Huaiwang, an uncertain look on her face.

Su Huaiwang quickly added: “It’s because you drew too well. After all, a person can’t possibly look as good as a painting.”

After finishing that line of self-deprecating humor with a smile, she immediately contradicted herself internally: No, Lin Jue looks even better than the painting.

Lin Jue lowered her eyelashes and whispered, “Indeed, the portrait is still inferior to the real person.”

Her voice was too low. Su Huaiwang didn’t quite catch it and asked again: “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Lin Jue carefully put the drawing away, placing it in an inner pocket: “Weren’t we going to paint with watercolors?”

Since the other person didn’t want to repeat herself, Su Huaiwang didn’t press the issue and quickly started preparing the watercolor supplies.

…

The temperature was perfect this morning. The lush green outside the window swayed with the breeze. The distant and near sounds of cicadas drifted into the room. Su Huaiwang had rarely felt this relaxed when painting before.

Lin Jue was right beside her. With a slight turn of her head, Su Huaiwang could see the other person’s work.

In fact, ever since Lin Jue showed her the sketch, Su Huaiwang had a feeling that the other person was not only not a beginner but also highly accomplished in art.

Although she didn’t know why Lin Jue was initially somewhat awkward and had many questions for her, it was clear now that she was in the zone, wholeheartedly focused on her creation.

Lin Jue was painting a swath of azure sky, her amber eyes temporarily unaware of Su Huaiwang’s gaze.

This was a rare occurrence.

Su Huaiwang took advantage of this moment to look at her somewhat brazenly.

Undeniably, Lin Jue was beautiful, and her focused, absorbed expression at this moment made one unconsciously captivated.

She raised her arm, revealing a toned, smooth curve. Her slightly red, thin lips were pursed, the usual smile gone, replaced by a seriousness Su Huaiwang was unfamiliar with. Her long, dense eyelashes blinked occasionally, like a butterfly’s wings, making Su Huaiwang’s heart itch.

Su Huaiwang accidentally stared for too long, not even noticing that the paintbrush in her hand had been still for a long time.

Lin Jue turned her head, giving her a slightly helpless smile: “What’s wrong? You’ve been staring at me.”

Plop, the paintbrush was startled out of her hand and fell to the floor, leaving a thick, dark stroke on the wood.

Su Huaiwang fumbled to pick up the brush, quickly saying, “N-nothing…”

The phone rang suddenly in the studio, rescuing Su Huaiwang from her predicament.

Su Huaiwang grabbed her phone as if she had seen a savior.

“I need to take a call,” she said to Lin Jue, her eyes evasive.

Lin Jue nodded, and Su Huaiwang hurried out of the studio.

Silence returned to the room. The quiet girl raised her paintbrush, then put it down again, placing it in the shadow where the sunlight didn’t reach.

The imagined clear sky was left unfinished, abruptly halted.

…

On the other side, Su Huaiwang looked at the unfamiliar number on her phone, finding it somewhat familiar.

She didn’t think too much and pressed the answer button.

A dial tone sounded, and Su Huaiwang listened, remaining silent.

Soon, a female voice appeared: “Hello, can I help you?”

“Hello.” Su Huaiwang’s voice was cold. After all, the only calls she ever received besides Tu Zhuozhuo were telemarketing.

She glanced at the phone screen again; the number was from Sibei.

“Hello, Ms. Su Huaiwang. I am a staff member from the Sibei police system. My name is Lei Yinyin, badge number 164873. We met yesterday at Baiyang Temple. Do you remember?”

The voice, enhanced by the radio waves, wasn’t enough to jog Su Huaiwang’s memory, but the name the other person spoke made Su Huaiwang vaguely recall the person.

The heroic-looking woman she had met at Baiyang Temple yesterday—the badge she showed her had that very name on it.

“Hello, may I ask what this is about?” Su Huaiwang frowned, feeling no good premonition.

The person on the other end smiled warmly: “Please don’t worry. Our encounter yesterday was purely coincidental, and I’m not calling about yesterday’s events.”

“I am calling today to conduct a simple follow-up regarding your disappearance one year ago.”

Su Huaiwang held the phone away slightly and double-checked the number.

She briefly closed the call page and opened her notes.

The woman on the other end, receiving no response, asked hesitantly, “Are you still there?”

“I am.” Su Huaiwang’s uninflected voice returned: “I want to ask, is this your private number?”

Lei Yinyin was speechless: “Yes.” She then added: “You can check my badge number on the National Police System platform. All my relevant information is there, so you can be assured.”

Su Huaiwang ignored her explanation and continued: “If you are calling about the incident a year ago, then you should know that your people gave me a contact number back then. Since I currently don’t have sufficient means to verify your authenticity, could you please call me using that number?”

Her words were calm and well-organized. Lei Yinyin wanted to say something more, then remembered her work protocol and had to concede defeat:

“Understood. My apologies for not being thorough. Please wait a moment.”

Su Huaiwang agreed, and the call ended.

Figuring the other person might call back, Su Huaiwang wasn’t in a hurry to re-enter the studio. Instead, she rested outside, taking the opportunity to clear her thoughts and let the embarrassing heat on her cheeks dissipate.

As expected, the number saved in Su Huaiwang’s notes called her back soon after.

Su Huaiwang verified it repeatedly. After confirming its authenticity, she answered.

“Hello.” It was still Lei Yinyin’s voice. Su Huaiwang was slightly surprised, as she thought the person working with that number would call her.

“Hello. I can confirm your identity now. Do you have any questions you need to ask?”

“You don’t need to be nervous. It’s just a small follow-up investigation.” Lei Yinyin sighed in relief. At least Su Huaiwang was much more reasonable than many of her previous interviewees:

“We are confirming: you went missing in June of last year in the Beiguan Village area of Minguan for nearly a month, were later found, had no obvious injuries, but exhibited symptoms of amnesia, is that correct?”

“Beiguan Village?” Su Huaiwang frowned more deeply: “I went to Nanguan Village.”

Lei Yinyin quickly corrected herself: “Okay, I understand. We might have made a mistake on our end.”

However, she didn’t modify the case file, but only added a note.

“I’d like to ask, is there still no sign of the lost part of your memory returning?”

“Yes.” Su Huaiwang’s tone was normal. This was no longer a big deal for her.

“Alright. And have you felt anything troublesome in your life recently?”

“Is the question changing so drastically?”

“We just want to understand your current life situation and see if that incident has had any impact on your life.”

“No.” Su Huaiwang said resolutely.

Lei Yinyin was silent for a moment, her voice taking on a low, warm tone: “Excluding the specific elements of that incident, in your life over the past year, is there anything… that you feel is slightly off?”

Somehow, her voice seemed to carry a kind of magic. Su Huaiwang originally intended to simply say no again, but the word got stuck in her throat.

Her mind inexplicably began to automatically replay all the details of her month-plus acquaintance with Lin Jue:

The silent house, the girl who rarely went out, the skin that was cold even in summer, the fleeting glimpse of pallor…

Su Huaiwang was speechless. Lei Yinyin, on the other end, had already gotten the answer she was looking for, her voice turning cheerful:

“Alright, thank you for your patience. This phone follow-up is concluded. We will conduct an in-person follow-up soon. I will be in charge again and will arrange a time that works for you for a home visit.”

“Wait,” Su Huaiwang collected herself: “I’m not in Sibei right now…”

“That’s fine. Please don’t worry. We will come to you. You don’t need to specifically prepare anything. Just carry on as normal. If you have any questions, you can contact this number or the local police station. I wish you a pleasant life.”

The civil servant on the other end concluded the call with a slightly uplifted end-of-sentence blessing.

After hanging up, the upward curve of her lips disappeared. A thoughtful look was on her young face.

A disciple in training attire passed by and asked curiously, “What’s up, Sister Yinyin? Is there a situation?”

“I’m not quite sure yet.”

“No way! That’s the case our boss handled!”

“What ‘boss’!” Lei Yinyin slapped the young disciple’s forehead: “Have you been watching too many gangster movies? We’re civil servants, not thugs!”

She turned around: “She’s not omnipotent, you know! It’s possible for there to be slip-ups. Otherwise, why do you think we do follow-ups?”

Before them was a mountain covered in misty green, with ethereal air surrounding the pillars. Yet, the two of them were standing in thoroughly modern attire on the martial arts training ground halfway up this immortal mountain.

“I still need to go there myself…” Lei Yinyin murmured.