Chapter 70
“There’s something odd about Nie Shijun’s lifestyle habits,” Bo Jinyan said. “Yesterday, Jian Yao also pointed out that the places Nie Shijun most often frequented included the park, her workplace, and shopping malls. Her neighbours, roommate, and colleagues concurred. According to your description of her clothing and lifestyle habits, she was a very plain, simple girl, who very rarely owned or used expensive brands and luxury goods. She did not have a credit card, yet, according to her bank card records, there were two hefty withdrawals from her account each month. What did she spend all this money on? I think we need to visit the shopping mall she usually frequented to find out.”
Everyone was a little startled.
Jian Yao was in total agreement. Right now, they had no leads on the killer, so it was only sensible to focus on the victim. As Bo Jinyan had previously asserted, there must have been something special about Nie Shijun which enticed the killer to set off on his murderous journey. They could not miss out on any unusual detail, no matter how minor, even though it was highly likely to have nothing to do with the case in the end.
“Okay. Thanks for your hard work. We’ll contact you if there is any progress.” Shao Yong left, and Jian Yao handed the packed breakfast to the two otakus. An Yan softly uttered, “Oh yeah,” and sat down to eat at once.
A steaming hot takeout box was placed in Bo Jinyan’s hands. When he opened it, he smelled the light fragrance of yuxiang*.
*T/N 鱼香 (yu xiang) – a seasoning of Chinese cuisine that typically contains garlic, scallions, ginger, sugar, salt, chilli peppers (etc.) Although ‘yuxiang’ literally means ‘fish fragrance’, it doesn’t necessarily contain fish or seafood.
“Fishball noodles,” a gentle voice said in his ear. “The fishballs are made from fresh fish. Do watch out, there may be small bones.”
“Uhm, okay.” Out of the blue, Bo Jinyan was struck by an impulse, and reached out to grab Jian Yao’s hand. Unexpectedly, he actually got hold of her. Her hands were still so supple that they seemed almost boneless, but his fingertips detected a minute, almost indiscernible difference – he clearly felt the callouses on her palm. As a result, he was even more unwilling to let her go, and gripped her hand more tightly.
Jian Yao’s heart was in turmoil. As she bent her head, she could see his black hair, swept off his forehead, his pale face beneath the sunglasses. His slightly dry fingers pressed against her palm, and in that split second, she was trembling all over.