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When Yu Song was released, it was 11:30 in the morning.
She had been brought in as an important suspect at noon yesterday, so she’d been held for less than twenty-four hours—completely legal and aboveboard.
She stood in front of the police station’s mirror, sizing up the girl reflected there.
A head of vivid green short hair, all spiky and wild, striking features that were beautiful but, because she was so thin, her facial contours looked sharpened, almost harsh.
If you ignored the eyes and just looked at the face, it would give off a cold, cutting vibe.
Below, she wore pink ultra-short shorts; above, a white, midriff-baring T-shirt; and on her feet, a pair of black canvas knee-high boots.
With this outfit, this hairstyle, and her deathly pale skin, she was the very picture of a rebellious girl obsessed with anime.
Yu Song had originally thought this kind of getup was only seen in junior high or high school, but the original owner of this body was already a sophomore in college.
It seemed her university was pretty tolerant.
Yu Song smiled at the girl in the mirror, mussed up her already messy hair even more, then turned and walked out of the Criminal Investigation Unit’s doors.
Right now, she was both exhausted and starving—she needed to find a place to recharge.
Last night, Yu Song had dozed off for a while at the table.
During that time, she’d been given two boxed meals and a few bottles of water.
She’d eaten all the food, and was still holding half a bottle of water in her hand.
Being interrogated was already something that drained both physical strength and energy, not to mention being grilled by the Serious Crimes Unit at high intensity—even Yu Song could barely handle it.
She’d wanted to find somewhere to eat first, but after catching a whiff of her own sweaty odor, she decided it was better to go home and shower.
Thinking of going home, Yu Song instinctively walked toward the bus stop, then realized this was probably the original owner’s habit.
The family wasn’t well-off, so she always chose the cheapest way to get around.
She had no patience to squeeze onto a crowded bus with a bunch of old men and women.
Besides, if she happened to run into the “morning glory brigade” at this hour, she’d be driven mad by the noise.
Yu Song stopped by the roadside and pulled out her phone, only to find there were no ride-hailing apps installed.
She deftly started downloading an app, but before it could finish installing, a text message popped up: insufficient data.
Staring at the message and her unresponsive phone screen, Yu Song felt a nameless fire of irritation well up inside her.
She hadn’t even felt this kind of rage back in the interrogation room.
What a miserable life this girl lived.
Didn’t she get a bonus?
Why not spend it?
Saving every penny, always afraid of this and that.
And in the end, when she turned dark, she didn’t even do it right—didn’t kill who needed killing, just hung around the main couple every day.
If you don’t die, who will?
Grumbling to herself, Yu Song checked her bank card and all her payment apps.
There was 2,000 yuan in the bank, and 57 bucks in her e-wallet.
The city bureau had given her a 10,000 yuan bonus, but the original owner’s mom had transferred it all away as soon as it arrived.
The remaining 2,000 was only sent back after the original owner threatened to report her mom.
Which meant that previously, the original owner only had 57 yuan to her name.
Yu Song sighed.
It seemed her first mission was to make money.
The original owner’s major was accounting.
If she did well, she could live pretty comfortably; if not, she’d end up as a cashier or warehouse clerk, earning just a few thousand a month at most.
And for someone attending a third-rate university like hers, not having to deliver food after graduation was already considered lucky.
Yu Song didn’t like this major, but she still needed a diploma, and at least the university was local and the tuition was cheap.
She switched to a data plan with more data on a mini-program, just about to call a ride, when she looked up and saw a bathhouse across the street advertising a promotion.
One hundred thirty-three yuan, and it included a buffet?
Yu Song decided not to bother with a ride.
She crossed the street and walked into the bathhouse.
In the Criminal Investigation Unit, Gu Zhi had also heard that Yu Song had entered a bathhouse.
He frowned—places like that, no matter how legitimate, always attracted all sorts of shady characters.
“Keep an eye on her. See who she’s meeting.”
After her bath and a change of clothes, Yu Song was at the buffet area, picking out her meal.
With bathhouses at this price point, seafood was out of the question—definitely not fresh.
But the pork belly looked good, and the bacon and roast duck weren’t bad either.
She grabbed a good amount of vegetables and tofu, ordered a clear broth for her hotpot, and decided to try everything.
She was truly famished. Sitting in the coolest corner, she dug in with gusto.
Just as she was enjoying her meal, someone approached.
Yu Song couldn’t be bothered to look back or make small talk, and simply said coldly, “Not sharing.”
The person didn’t leave. Instead, he chuckled twice and pulled out the chair next to her, sitting down.
A waft of cigarette smoke hit her.
Yu Song frowned. Some people just didn’t deserve kindness—she should have been blunt from the start.
She was about to curse the person away when the bald man chuckled again.
“Little Yu, where’s your mom? How come you’re here, you money-losing girl?”
Yu Song frowned. She’d only ever seen “money-losing girl” used to describe women in period dramas. It was 2025—if you were going to be sexist, at least keep it to yourself.
But the original owner had often been called this, because her name had the character “Song” (meaning “send away”).
Her dad was Yu Daqiang, and her mom was Song Wenya. They’d originally planned to name her Yu Song—pleasant and meaningful—but at registration, it had been written as Yu Send.
Song Wenya claimed it was a staff error.
Yu Daqiang said he’d wanted a divorce at the time and didn’t want to give the kid her mom’s surname.
The original owner only learned the real reason later.
After the child was born, the parents had actually considered giving her away, but never managed to. Both parents were alive, so the orphanage wouldn’t take her.
Yu Daqiang, for some reason, just went ahead and named her Yu Send.
She’d been called that for nearly twenty years, and no one seemed to think it was a bad name.
But Yu Song truly disliked it.
She’d have to find time to change it back—and maybe get a paternity test on her parents while she was at it.
Yu Daqiang had always doubted her parentage, because when Song Wenya got pregnant, the two of them were deeply involved in a certain Do organization.
In the end, Yu Song dismissed the idea.
No need.
She wasn’t the original owner—there were no real family ties here.
The original had never felt any love, and she didn’t owe anyone any debts.
“Money-losing girl, how old are you now? You’re an adult, right? Flat-chested, but your skin’s nice and you’re good-looking. Just, what’s with the green hair? Looks awful.”
Yu Song realized the bald man was an acquaintance of Song Wenya’s, so she ignored him.
Who knew he’d get even more obnoxious.
The hotpot was starting to bubble, and Yu Song’s hands itched to do something, but seeing the couple across from her eating watermelon and watching the scene, she held back.
Just as she picked up a plate of vegetables to put in the pot, the bald man grabbed a handful of her hair to examine it.
“I wonder if you can dye this back? My clients all like obedient girls.”
Yu Song had had enough. Pimping right in front of her—now she’d seen everything.
She dumped a whole plate of vegetables into the pot, grabbed the back of the bald man’s collar with her other hand, and with a burst of strength, pressed his head over the steaming hotpot.
Yu Song moved fast.
The bald man yelped, letting go of her hair, both hands bracing against the table.
He thought Yu Song was about to shove his face into the pot, his eyes nearly bulging out in terror.
“You… what are you doing?!”
The watermelon-eating couple across the way seemed startled too. The woman looked up, staring intently at them, while the man stood up and hurried over.
Yu Song held the bald man’s head down. “Waiter, there’s a bug on the lettuce leaf. See it? Get it out for me, quick.”
The watermelon guy, who had already come close, suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He stood there looking around, as if lost, then turned and headed for the buffet counter.
The bald man’s vision was fogged up from the steam—he couldn’t see any bug.
But he breathed a sigh of relief. So the girl was just scared by a bug on her food.
Kids dressed like this always made a fuss—nothing unusual.
Still, he was annoyed. This girl was way too strong—he’d been genuinely startled, and it was embarrassing.
“I’m not the waiter! Are you blind?”
This time, with a light struggle, Yu Song let go. She said lazily, “Bald Qiang, am I blind, or are you?”
The bald man froze at the nickname, a chill running down his spine.
So she knew who he was. And he could see real killing intent in her eyes—she’d actually wanted to dunk his face in the pot!
Good thing it was a small pot and his face was big—he’d at most get burned.
Otherwise, he really would have ended up as pork head meat.
He stopped grinning and said seriously, “Little Yu, don’t be scared. Forgot to introduce myself, I’m your mom’s—”
Halfway through, under Yu Song’s threatening gaze, he swallowed his words. This time, he was sure he hadn’t imagined the look in her eyes just now.
“Sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”
He slunk away.
Yu Song wiped the spot on the table where he’d just been with a napkin, then fished out a lettuce leaf from the pot, dipped it in sesame sauce, and started eating.
Honestly, she hadn’t wanted to be so fierce, but people like that were like sticky candy—the more you backed down, the more they thought you were easy to bully.
As for whether Bald Qiang would take it out on Song Wenya, that wasn’t her problem.
Weren’t they all so chummy? There were plenty of scores to settle between them.
Just then, the watermelon guy returned from the buffet with a plate of fruit.
Yu Song noticed he’d still only taken watermelon and Hami melon. She couldn’t help twitching her lips—he really liked his melons.
She ignored the couple and focused on eating.
By the time she finished, they’d moved over to the ice cream machine by the restaurant entrance.
Yu Song walked over. “Eating melon and watching the show together, and now ice cream—pretty cozy. Just don’t let your fake relationship turn real.”
Both of them looked at her blankly.
The watermelon guy glanced around. “Little sister, are you talking to us?”
The girl pretended not to understand, moving aside. “Am I in your way? You want some ice cream too?”
Yu Song couldn’t be bothered with their nonsense.
“That guy just now is nicknamed Bald Qiang. My mom’s a ‘parent’ at his school. I heard he can even buy a school district house. He recognized me just now and wanted me to go over and try some ‘new tea.’”
The couple’s faces cracked instantly.
“Parent” meant an intermediary for introducing girls; “school district house” meant there were underage girls; “new tea” referred to new girls.
These were all underworld codes in that business.
Even though Yu Song didn’t have many decent people around her, she was still a student and had never participated in anything illegal.
Who’d have thought she could rattle off so much black jargon so smoothly.
After saying her piece, she ignored their dumbfounded faces, rubbed her thumb and index finger together, and sang, “I want money, money, money!”
The watermelon guy quickly looked down at his toes, while the girl bit her lip hard, afraid she’d burst out laughing.
Today’s mission was really too challenging.
Yu Song didn’t make things hard for them.
“Relax. I know you can’t transfer money privately. When you get back, remember to tell Officer Gu that this tip came from me. Happy cooperation!”
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