XINGYU AND WEIRAN were taking turns being the calm one, and today it was Xingyu who had that responsibility. Weiran was working through all of Liu Baiyan’s files, but his work had become clumsier, less complete, and Xingyu had to spend time going through it before he passed it on to ensure that everything was as it should be. Xingyu, the designated calm one, tried to tell Weiran several times that there was nothing to worry about—that Xiao-Xiao was fine, that he could take care of himself—but Xingyu didn’t entirely believe such claims either.

“You were right. Bai Xue kept him for a week too,” said Weiran, picking at the sandwich Xingyu had ordered to their room. He hadn’t eaten a bite since yesterday’s breakfast and didn’t seem like he intended to, but for what it was worth he seemed to be making an effort to at least pretend to eat. “Torturing him. Covering him in bruises.”

Xingyu’s heart raised into his throat. He swallowed it back down. “Thinking about such things isn’t going to help anyone.”

“I promised myself that I wasn’t going to let him get hurt again.”

“Why would you make that promise? You can’t keep your eyes on him for the rest of his life. He probably just got…tied up in something. Maybe the police have been questioning him.”

“He would have called one of us if he got tied up, and the police would have given him a phone call now.”

Xingyu knew all of that. He’d gone through these same arguments at least a thousand times now. Zhang Weiran wasn’t going to bring up any pessimistic idea that Xingyu hadn’t already turned over in his head. “Just concentrate on work. There’s nothing we can do about Xiao-Xiao right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“All of these people are still being arrested. Their properties are being searched. If one of them had him, the police will find him.”

“What if—”

“Hold on.” Xingyu’s phone was ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and held it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Is this Liu Xingyu?”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Not one of the people Xingyu contacted about finding Xiao-Xiao. “Speaking. May I help you?”

“This is Chen Rang’er. Do you, uh, remember me?”

“I know who you are. If this is about your father, I don’t have anything to say to you. He committed crimes and he should pay for it.”

“No, no—it isn’t about that. I should actually thank you for that. Uh, what I wanted to say—that is, what I called you about—” Chen Rang’er was really struggling with this, and Xingyu was getting impatient.

“Just spit it out. I don’t have the time to chat with you all day.”

“I was wondering what happened to Xiao-ge!”