Chapter 1: Patrolman Zhou Sen (Please Add to Your Favorites!)

The northern lands, City of Ice.

Outside, the wind raged, and even a drop of water froze instantly.

In the Dao Wai district, at the Fragrant Pavilion of Cui Fang Lane.

At dawn, a young hand slipped out from beneath a brocade quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks.

He let out a breath, as if a fish starved of oxygen had finally surfaced for air.

His eyelids half-opened, slitting his gaze at the world.

Wait—what was this bed, this scent, and the dazzling… crystal chandelier swaying overhead?

Something wasn’t right. Where was he?

Zhou Sen took a breath, turned his neck slightly, and saw a retro table lamp at the bedside: a brass base, a silken shade, and a pull-cord switch.

Damn it—what era still used things like this?

His body ached, as though it had been hollowed out.

Hell, had he been writing all night until he hallucinated? He shut his eyes tightly, counted to three, and opened them again.

Nothing had changed.

He shifted. Something was wrong—there was someone else under the quilt!

Even the dullest nerves would have sensed a problem by now. About to get up, Zhou Sen’s expression shifted minutely.

His heart leapt to his throat. He gingerly lifted the quilt for a peek.

When he saw the undulating curves beneath, his heart thundered as if struck by lightning. Zhou Sen shuddered, hastily pulling the quilt back over.

Hallucination—it had to be a hallucination…

His heart nearly burst from his chest, his mind went blank, and his eyes widened in shock.

He tried to calm himself.

Suddenly, a flood of memories not his own surged into his mind, a tidal wave crashing through his consciousness, leaving him frozen and his brain throbbing as though a thousand needles had pierced it. The pain bulged the veins in his neck, and his body refused to move.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he regained control of his body, but when he did, a storm of emotion churned within him.

Just then, the quilt rustled. His hand seemed to brush against something it shouldn’t have, and a delicate, flawless face—radiant in joy or anger—emerged.

Their eyes met.

What a celestial beauty! For an instant, Zhou Sen’s mind blanked again, his heart nearly stopping. But from those new memories, he recognized who this heart-stopping woman was.

The queen of Ice City’s most elite pleasure house, the owner of the Fragrant Pavilion: Bai Yulan.

Bai Yulan propped herself on his chest, seemingly digesting the situation herself. The blush rapidly faded from her cheeks, her eyes growing icy. “Have you stared long enough, or do you intend to linger in my bed all morning?”

“Miss Bai, about last night, I…” Zhou Sen stammered, tongue-tied with nerves—he’d never been in such a predicament.

“What, Young Master Zhou, are you planning to take responsibility?” Bai Yulan’s tone was calm as she tossed the quilt aside and slipped into an ethereal silk robe, stepping barefoot from the bed with all the elegance of a swan.

The fireplace burned warmly, springlike in the room.

“If responsibility is required, I wouldn’t object…” Zhou Sen swallowed. With a beauty like this, how could a man not be moved? For looks like hers, any man would risk everything—so-called courage born of desire was nothing more.

“Enough, Young Master Zhou. When you become chief of Ice City’s police department, perhaps I’ll give you a chance.” Bai Yulan’s beautiful eyes flashed coldly. “Let your eyes wander again, and I’ll gouge them out!”

Such ruthless words, spoken from the lips of a sultry beauty, had their own intoxicating charm.

He felt weak, utterly disarmed.

“What’s this? No backbone at all, yet you talk of responsibility?” Bai Yulan crossed the room, sat elegantly, crossed one leg, and picked up a cigarette from the table. With a coquettish smile and a flick of her slender finger, she exuded an irresistible allure.

This woman was truly a siren—her moods changed in a heartbeat.

“Come here and light my cigarette.”

That simple gesture was too seductive for words—it was enough to undo a man. Zhou Sen approached, only to pluck the cigarette from her lips. “Women ought to smoke less. Cigarettes are for men.”

With that, he stuck the cigarette in his own mouth, bent down for a match, struck it, and took a drag.

It was a little harsh, but better than what he’d smoked before. The feeling was unmistakable—ten years a heavy smoker.

Bai Yulan was briefly taken aback, but quickly recovered, as if she hadn’t expected such bold insolence.

“Zhou Sen, get dressed and get out!”

She changed moods faster than flipping pages in a book.

“I’ll go, but Bai Yulan, after what’s happened between us, remember this—I will take responsibility for you!” Zhou Sen dressed, strode over with newfound bravado, and hooked his finger under her chin, staring into her eyes as he spoke each word clearly.

He was not the kind to run after pulling up his trousers.

Bai Yulan bristled instantly, her chest heaving in indignation. She, a figure both feared and respected in Ice City’s underworld and high society, had been not only taken advantage of by a mere policeman, but also addressed so intimately and teased!

How could she show her face if word got out?

“Zhou Sen, do you have a death wish?” If looks could kill, Zhou Sen would have been torn limb from limb.

“You could kill me now, but soon the whole of Ice City would know you’ve slept with me!” Zhou Sen’s heart skipped a beat, but there was no backing down now. “I may just be a patrol captain, but I wear a uniform. If anything happens to me, you’ll be in trouble. Could your precious Fragrant Pavilion survive that?”

“You dare threaten me…” Bai Yulan’s expression shifted. She had underestimated this rakish young man’s nerve and cunning.

A woman’s path to survival in troubled times was hard enough; she controlled wealth and beauty coveted by all.

That alone was nearly a death sentence.

“By the way, do you have anything to eat? I’m starving…” Zhou Sen’s bravado collapsed in the next instant.

Bai Yulan fumed. She’d never met a man like this—threatening one moment, shameless the next; it was infuriating.

“Get out! I never want to see you again! If I hear you spreading rumors, I’ll chop you up and feed you to the dogs!” Bai Yulan reached for her cigarettes again, only to find the pack had vanished—Zhou Sen had pocketed it in a flash.

“I told you to stop smoking. You just won’t listen, so I’m confiscating these!” Zhou Sen waved a hand, swung the door open, and strode out.

“Scoundrel…” Bai Yulan ground her teeth, nearly biting through in rage. Even as he left, he made sure to tease her.

She truly couldn’t do anything to Zhou Sen right now. To be too hasty was to ruin greater plans. Had she not learned patience, both she and the Fragrant Pavilion would have been devoured without a trace by now.

She would have to treat it as nothing more than a dog bite.

…

A shiver ran through Zhou Sen as he stepped outside—the contrast between the warmth within and the cold without was like heaven and earth.

The frigid wind cleared his thoughts.

He had lived his whole life in the south, and now, his soul had landed in the farthest north of the country—eighty years in the past, no less.

The environment could not have been more different.

It was freezing. He felt an urge to dart back inside, where it was warm and a beauty awaited.

He could always go along for the ride.

But he held himself back.

Right now, that woman inside probably wanted to skin him alive. Better to slip away before he was actually dismembered.

He’d never been so bold in thirty years of life—perhaps this was what it meant to live a new life, cutting loose?

Zhou Sen wrapped himself tightly in a heavy wool coat, collar turned up, head down like an ostrich. He opened the back door, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and slipped out.

It was a back alley, rarely trafficked.

He instinctively avoided anyone who might recognize him. After all, this body was not his own. Even if he had inherited the man’s memories, there would be differences in behavior and speech.

His mind was an anxious tangle. This was no windfall from the heavens—more like an iron weight dropped on his head. He’d be lucky to escape with a bump; death was the likelier outcome.

This was Ice City, 1938—no less than seven years before the war would end.

How had he ended up so unlucky?

And worse, he was wearing the black uniform—a death warrant in the years to come. He would need to find a way to shed it.

“Bug, hey Bug!”

Lost in thought, Zhou Sen was startled by a voice calling from behind, shadowing his every step. He quickened his pace.

There were few people on the street. European-style buildings lined both sides, like a set piece from the past. Occasionally, a horse-drawn carriage or cyclist passed by, each bundled tightly against the cold, faces obscured.

Suddenly, Zhou Sen recalled—the former owner of this body had a nickname: “Bug.” Was someone calling him?

He stopped abruptly and turned. A man, bundled so thickly he looked like a bear, barreled into him.

“Ow…”

Zhou Sen staggered, nearly landing in the snow.

He looked up.

It was his subordinate, Ye San.

“Ye San, what are you doing? Watch where you’re going! Look, you nearly bowled me over!” Zhou Sen complained, rubbing his chest, deciding to seize the initiative.

“Sorry, Bug, I really didn’t mean it.” Ye San hurried over, apologetic and eager to please.

“Spit it out—if you’ve got something to say, say it. I need to get some sleep.” Zhou Sen’s expression softened, dropping his hand from his chest as he yawned. Right now, all he wanted was a hot meal and a good nap.

As for everything else—damn it, he was here now. Let fate take its course!

“Bug…”

“Don’t call me that. I hate the nickname,” Zhou Sen snapped, glaring at Ye San.

“Boss, there’s been a murder on Gogol Street—well, it’s called Commerce Street now. An editor from the Songjiang Times was killed. The higher-ups want us to check it out.” Ye San was startled—Zhou Sen’s gaze was frightening, not at all like the “Bug” he knew.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go!” Zhou Sen didn’t realize his look had scared Ye San. He took off running—Gogol Street was his beat.

A murder in his precinct—he, as captain, would have to investigate. The Songjiang Times was rumored to have powerful backers. Damn it, why did this have to happen while he was still in charge?

“Boss, be careful! It’s a few blocks away—let’s get a car,” Ye San called, dodging a speeding automobile.

…

“Miss Lan, he’s gone.” The maid, Ah Xiang, watched Zhou Sen’s figure vanish down the alley before heading upstairs to report to Bai Yulan.

“Ah Xiang, pick up some medicine for me later.” Bai Yulan sat on the sofa, massaging her temples. She’d been set up—that’s how this absurd night had happened. And she couldn’t let anyone find out.

She knew exactly who had orchestrated it. Did they really think such low, despicable tricks would force her hand?

Impossible! Bai Yulan would yield to gentleness, never to force—and these people were wolves in human skin.

She would never let herself be devoured.

Author’s Note: A new journey begins! Dear readers, your clicks, collections, and support are my endless motivation to keep writing!