Shadows of Beijing

Chapter 11: Echoes From the Past

The rain came without warning.

It fell in sheets against the precinct windows, drumming a hollow rhythm across the concrete. Inside, Yuyan sat alone in the dim briefing room, the only light coming from a flickering projector and the dull glow of the city beyond.

On the screen were files—old ones. Archived. Sealed until yesterday.

Captain Wang had given her clearance to review them after the encounter with Lin Ruo. Files related to a cold case—unsolved disappearances from a decade ago.

One in particular bore her name on the original witness report.

Chen Lixia – Missing, 2013.

Yuyan’s hand trembled slightly as she tapped through the scans. Photos. Statements. Her own teenage handwriting.

The memories hit hard.

Her cousin. Bright, warm, a dancer with big dreams. Vanished at sixteen, last seen leaving a small audition downtown. The case had gone nowhere. Police at the time blamed runaways. “No evidence of foul play,” the report said.

But now, through the lens of Lin Ruo’s operation, it looked different. Familiar patterns. Similar grooming tactics. Talent scouts. Promises. Then silence.

Yuyan swallowed hard.

This case… wasn’t just professional anymore. It never had been.

“Yuyan?” came a soft voice.

She looked up.

Zihan stood in the doorway, his expression gentle. Concerned.

“I figured I’d find you here.”

She didn’t answer, just turned back to the screen.

Zihan stepped inside, quietly pulling the door shut behind him. He approached slowly, scanning the files over her shoulder. Then he saw the name.

“Chen Lixia… is that—?”

“My cousin,” Yuyan said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She disappeared when I was sixteen. My first real heartbreak. And the reason I became a cop.”

Zihan sat beside her without a word.

“I filed the missing persons report myself,” she continued. “Nobody took it seriously. They said she probably ran away. But I knew she wouldn’t. She’d just gotten into the Beijing Academy of Dance.”

Zihan listened, eyes never leaving her face.

“I tried for years to chase leads. Even as a rookie. But it always hit a wall. Until now. Until Lin.”

Yuyan turned to him, pain flashing in her eyes. “What if Lixia was one of the first? What if she’s—”

She broke off, breath catching.

Zihan reached for her hand without hesitation. “Then we find the truth. No matter what it is.”

Yuyan met his gaze. “You always say the right thing.”

He gave a half-smile. “Only with you.”

She exhaled, the tension in her chest loosening just a little.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Not of Lin. Not even of losing. I’m scared of what I’ll find if we dig deeper.”

Zihan leaned in. “Then I’ll be the one who holds the shovel with you. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

A pause.

Then Yuyan did something rare—she leaned into him. Head against his shoulder. Letting herself rest, just for a moment.

Zihan’s hand moved gently up her back, holding her close. There was no rush in his touch. No expectation. Just quiet support.

“You don’t always have to be strong,” he whispered.

“You’re the only one I trust to see me when I’m not.”

They stayed like that for a long time—two people in a silent war, finally letting their armor fall.

---

The next morning brought urgency.

Yuyan and Zihan stood in front of a dark green door in an aging apartment complex in western Beijing. The resident: a former Lin Corporation employee who had quit under suspicious circumstances years ago. Her name was An Jie. A former secretary who had gone into hiding.

Yuyan knocked firmly. No answer.

“An Jie, this is Detective Chen,” she called. “We just want to talk. You’re not in trouble.”

Still silence.

Zihan looked at her. “I can try?”

She nodded.

He stepped forward. “Ms. An Jie, we believe you may have information about Lin Ruo. We’re not here to expose you. We’re here to stop what she’s still doing.”

There was a long pause.

Then the sound of bolts unlocking. The door opened slowly.

A thin woman in her mid-thirties peeked out, her face pale and cautious. She had deep shadows under her eyes, and a limp in her step.

“I said I’d never talk about that again,” she whispered. “It nearly killed me.”

Yuyan’s tone softened. “Please. Someone I loved may have been one of Lin’s first victims. I need to know how far this goes.”

An Jie looked at both of them. Something in Yuyan’s voice—or maybe her eyes—convinced her.

She opened the door wider. “Come in.”

Inside, the apartment was cramped, but clean. An Jie moved slowly, settling into an armchair. She lit a cigarette with shaky fingers.

“I was with Lin Corporation for five years,” she began. “At first, it was all legal. Admin work. Real estate filings. But around year three, I was promoted to a private task team. That’s when I saw the ledgers.”

She pulled out a dusty binder from beneath the couch. It was old. Worn. But Yuyan’s eyes widened the moment she saw the names inside.

Dozens of girls. Dates. Code names. Shipment routes. All under euphemisms—“New Talent,” “Relocation,” “VIP Prep.”

One name stood out.

L.X.

Yuyan’s heart stopped.

“She kept that girl longer than most,” An Jie said quietly. “Trained her personally. I don’t know what happened to her after 2014. She just… vanished.”

Yuyan stared at the name, the letters burned into her brain. “It has to be Lixia.”

Zihan reached over, brushing her hand gently.

An Jie continued, “There’s more. A private facility—rural, not on any grid. That’s where the girls were trained. Conditioned. If she’s alive, she’d be there.”

Yuyan stood. Her voice was steady, but her eyes burned.

“Then that’s where we’re going.”