Chapter 82: Qin Chang

Morning, Fourth Bureau Chief Office.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on the wide rosewood desk. Lin Yu was processing documents when Zhou Wei lightly knocked and entered.

"Commander," Zhou Wei said softly, "the eldest son of Commander Qin, Qin Chang'an, wants to see you."

Lin Yu's finger paused for a moment, he lifted his head to look at Zhou Wei: "Qin Chang'an?"

"Yes," Zhou Wei placed a file on the desk, "this is all the information we have gathered."

Lin Yu set down his pen, his knuckles lightly tapping the desktop. After a moment, he opened the file.

"Qin Chang'an, twenty‑four years old..." Lin Yu's eyes swept over the document, "current commander of the Kunshan Security Regiment?"

"Yes," Zhou Wei added, "Kunshan is less than a hundred li from Shen City, making it the gateway to Shen City. As commander of the Security Regiment, he actually controls security affairs in the surrounding area of Kunshan."

Lin Yu continued reading: "At sixteen he went to Britain to study, majoring in military engineering; at twenty he returned to China and furthered his studies at the Great Dry Empire's Military Academy."

"This Young Commander's résumé is impressive," Zhou Wei said, "his grades at the Military Academy were always top‑rank, especially skilled in tactical command and military strategy. After graduation he could have stayed in Yan Capital to develop, but he chose to return to Shen City."

Lin Yu turned to the next page: "The Security Regiment's record… suppressing bandits, restoring order… it seems they've done well in Kunshan over the past two years."

"That's right," Zhou Wei nodded, "when he took over, the Kunshan Security Regiment was still a rabble, but now it has become one of the elite forces in the Jiangnan region. Moreover…"

"And what?"

"Moreover, he rarely relies on his father's influence," Zhou Wei lowered his voice, "over these two years in Kunshan he has basically started from scratch, making a name for himself through his own abilities."

Lin Yu's finger paused on the file: "Interesting. He doesn't seem to like playing political tricks like his father does?"

"On the surface it looks that way," Zhou Wei said cautiously, "but being able to train a rabble into an elite force in two years shows this kind of skill…"

Lin Yu closed the file and leaned back in his chair: "Why does he want to see me?"

"He says he wants to discuss Commander Qin's posthumous affairs."

"Posthumous affairs?" Lin Yu chuckled lightly, "At this time coming to see me, he probably wants to talk about more than just that."

The office fell into a brief silence. The sunlight remained warm, but the atmosphere subtly changed.

"Shall we see him?" Zhou Wei asked.

Lin Yu stood up and walked to the window. The streets of Shen City lay before him, and in the distance the Security Command Headquarters building stood out prominently in the sunlight.

"See," he said calmly, "why not? At twenty‑four he managed to train the Kunshan Security Regiment into that—this Qin Chang'an is quite an interesting figure."

"I'll arrange it right away."

In the afternoon, Shen City enjoyed rare fine weather.

Qin Chang'an's carriage stopped in front of No. 30 Xiafei Road. He got out alone and looked up at the Sino‑Western style building before him.

Tall French plane trees cast dappled shadows in the sunlight, the lawns beside the bluestone paths were trimmed to perfection, and the fountain's water rang clear and pleasant. The whole manor exuded a discreet sense of luxury.

"Truly ironic," Qin Chang'an murmured to himself.

According to the information he had received, just a month ago Lin Yu was merely an ordinary patrolman in the French Concession Police Station. Yet now this young man has not only become an imperial envoy but also owns a seven‑mu mansion on the prime real estate of Xiafei Road.

The iron gate opened, and an elderly butler in a Zhongshan suit stepped forward: "Young Commander, please come in; my young master is waiting for you in the reception hall."

Qin Chang'an followed the butler along the bluestone path. His gaze swept over the courtyard, seeing several guards in neat uniforms patrolling. Their equipment and training level were clearly beyond that of ordinary security.

"This guard unit…" Qin Chang'an noted silently.

Passing through the carefully tended garden, Qin Chang'an entered the main building. Crystal chandeliers refracted the afternoon sunlight, and the precious rosewood furniture and wall hangings all displayed the owner's taste.

But Qin Chang'an knew it had all come too quickly. So quickly that one couldn't help suspecting something fishy.

How could Lin Yu, who was just an ordinary patrolman a month ago, have acquired all this in such a short time? And where did that well‑trained guard unit come from?

More importantly, his father's death—what exactly…

"Young Commander," the butler's voice interrupted his thoughts, "please go up to the second floor."

Qin Chang'an straightened his collar and stepped onto the stairs. He knew the upcoming conversation would decide Shen City's future direction.

And he must, in this talk, see through Lin Yu's true intentions.

"The Young Commander has arrived," Zhang Dequan announced softly.

In the reception room, Lin Yu wore a dark‑green silk robe, lounging on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. Sunlight streamed through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows, stretching his shadow long.

Qin Chang'an stepped into the room. Their gazes met in the air, each silently sizing up the other.

Lin Yu saw a tall, slender young man in a finely tailored Zhongshan suit, his every movement bearing the martial vigor of a soldier. But what stood out most was his gaze—steady and calm, showing no trace of the hatred or anger one would expect when facing his father's killer.

"Inspector Lin," Qin Chang'an gave a slight nod.

"Please have a seat, Young Commander," Lin Yu gestured to the opposite sofa, "Butler Zhang, bring tea."

"No need to trouble yourself," Qin Chang'an said as he sat on the sofa, "I'm just here to have a few words with the Inspector."

"Oh?" Lin Yu looked at him with interest, "What do you want to talk about, Young Commander?"

"My father's posthumous affairs," Qin Chang'an said calmly, "and the handover of the Security Command Headquarters."

Lin Yu gave a faint smile: "The death of Commander Qin is indeed painful. Westerners have gone too far."

"Yes," Qin Chang'an said softly, "too far."

Their conversation seemed ordinary, yet every word hid a deeper meaning. The room's atmosphere was subtle and strange, yet surprisingly harmonious.

"I've heard you've done well in Kunshan, Young Commander," Lin Yu changed the subject, "the Security Regiment is now one of the elite forces in the Jiangnan region."

"The Inspector is well‑informed."

"It's part of the duty," Lin Yu lifted his teacup, "by the way, when do you plan to return to Kunshan, Young Commander?"

Qin Chang'an looked into Lin Yu's eyes: "That depends on the Inspector's wishes. After all, Father's passing was sudden, and the Security Command Headquarters…"

"The court will soon appoint a new Security Commander," Lin Yu set down his teacup, "Young Commander, you needn't worry."

"Really?" Qin Chang'an suddenly laughed, "Then I can relax."

Their talk was astonishingly peaceful—no swords drawn, no glaring anger, as if they were discussing something utterly mundane.

But they both knew that behind every word lay a hidden meaning, every glance carried deep significance. This is a game over Shen City's future, and they are each waiting for the other to reveal a weakness.