DSMIS CH65

Chapter 65: Reunited in Tianjin

After Jiang Lin returned to Tianjin, Director Shen was exceptionally obedient, exporting all the audio recordings of the abusive and harassing phone calls he had received. After compiling them into an organized file, he dialed 110 to report the harassment.

Over the next few days, a construction crew near the county hospital suffered a minor accident, bringing in several injured workers with fractures and lacerations. Shen Xing was swamped with cases, so he stopped paying excessive attention to the toxic uproar online. However, the harassing phone calls had indeed dwindled. On the morning of the third day, he received a call from the Tianjin Public Security Bureau.

Among the callers he had reported, five had also actively spread false information online, constituting illegal insult and defamation. For violating the Public Security Administration Punishments Law, they were each sentenced to five days of administrative detention and fined 500 yuan.

The news instantly left Director Shen feeling thoroughly revitalized, sweeping away all the lingering exhaustion from pulling half a night of surgery followed by a full day of outpatient clinic duty—more invigorating than downing ten cans of Red Bull. Returning home, he ordered barbecue and immediately placed a video call to Jiang Lin.

The first call was declined, followed seconds later by an incoming text:

In a meeting, give me a moment.

Shen Xing sent back an OK dancing-bear emoji, then unpacked his takeout. Right as he was eagerly tearing into a roasted lamb chop, the video call rang through. Using a clean knuckle, he swiped to answer. On screen, Captain Jiang’s police uniform shirt was slightly rumpled. The background was his office, and his complexion looked somewhat drawn, as if he hadn’t slept well:

“Why do you look so exhausted? Did you go home last night?”

When they had video-called the previous night, Jiang Lin had also been at the precinct; when they hung up past 10:00 PM, he still hadn’t left. Jiang Lin rubbed the bridge of his aching nose:

“No. An urgent case came up last night, so I crashed at the office. What are you eating? Smells delicious.”

Holding a piece of torn lamb chop, Shen Xing’s gaze had long since been captured by the man on screen. No wonder people said men at work were magnetic; right now, slightly fatigued, his crisp uniform unable to conceal his striking bone structure, Captain Jiang was practically dancing across his exact aesthetic preferences. Shen Xing took a bite of the lamb, tearing his eyes away from those well-defined hands with great effort, and spoke with utter sincerity:

“Captain Jiang, you’re looking terribly tempting right now, you know that?”

Having grown accustomed to Director Shen speaking purely from a dopamine rush, Jiang Lin chuckled helplessly:

“Good thing I’m the only one in the office.”

Shen Xing blinked:

“I wouldn’t say it if anyone else were there. Have you eaten? Let me order some takeout for you.”

“Grabbed a bite at the cafeteria, not hungry yet. Why do you look so radiant today?”

“Those idiots who cursed me out got detained! Five whole days! Just thinking about it feels amazing.”

In truth, Jiang Lin had known all along. He hadn’t told Shen Xing that the case had been transferred directly to his sub-bureau. Looking at the small picture, it involved cyber violence; looking at the larger picture, it involved syndicate fraud—using unlawful smear campaigns to cyberbully doctors, infringing on hospitals’ legitimate rights, and fostering a breeding ground for professional hospital extortion rings (yi nao). Something like this fell squarely within his jurisdiction.

Those who had merely phoned Shen Xing to spew vitriol would at most report to the cyber police and sit in administrative detention for a few days. But the family member who had originally posted the smear video, along with the gray-market syndicate behind them providing traffic manipulation and bot-army support, would in all likelihood be invited to his division for “tea.”

“Then you’ll probably have something even more satisfying in a few days.”

True to his academic prodigy intellect, Director Shen narrowed his eyes at the screen:

“Did you take on this case?”

Jiang Lin smiled without confirming or denying it.

“Old fox.”

“Am I old?”

Gnawing eagerly on his lamb chop, Shen Xing didn’t miss the chance to tease Captain Jiang:

“You’re already in your thirties—isn’t that old?”

“Disaster. You’re already sick of me at thirty; by forty, won’t Director Shen kick me straight to the curb?”

Jiang Lin leaned back against his office chair, his tone aggrieved, the exhaustion on his face even more pronounced. The sight made Shen Xing’s heart itch, wishing he could pounce on Captain Jiang right that second:

“Then Captain Jiang better keep his body in top shape. That way, I won’t get sick of you.”

“So you’d dump me if I lose my figure? In that case, I’ll go run five kilometers in a bit to stay in shape.”

Afraid he would actually do it, Shen Xing quickly piped up:

“Don’t you dare go torturing that leg of yours!”

Jiang Lin blinked at the camera, sounding slightly downcast:

“If I don’t exercise and gain weight, and my figure goes bad, you won’t want me anymore.”

Looking at the man in full police uniform sitting in a stern, solemn office, Shen Xing strongly questioned whether this was really Captain Jiang:

“I’ll want you! Even if you get as round as a ball, I’ll still want you! But if I get back and see your leg injury worsened, you’d better think carefully about the consequences, Captain Jiang.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Then let me order you some takeout. You’re working overtime tonight anyway, aren’t you?”

Half an hour later, Director Shen’s takeout of love arrived—a lavish, hearty spread. Captain Jiang couldn’t suppress his smile. He only hung up the video call when Director Shen finished eating and headed off to shower.

Seven days later, Shen Xing received a message from Jiang Lin:

The case files for the family member who posted the video first and the hospital extortion syndicate have been formally transferred to the procuratorate.

The ugly storm of medical extortion had finally blown over in this decisive manner.

A month and a half slipped by in the blink of an eye. With barely a week remaining, Shen Xing’s one-year Yunnan aid mission was drawing to a close. October in Yunnan was no longer as sweltering as when Jiang Lin had departed. Shen Xing rarely worked overtime anymore, gradually transferring his remaining inpatients to his hospital colleagues.

On his final weekend, he visited Shipa Street once more, picking up souvenirs for his family and a collection of unique handicraft trinkets, haggling just as Captain Jiang had taught him, and shipping everything in bulk back to Tianjin.

The day before his departure, his hospital colleagues threw a farewell dinner for him; since he had a long drive ahead, he abstained from alcohol.

It was the same road he had traveled upon arriving, in the exact same season, but this time, the journey back had no torrential rain and no mudslides. The distant mountains were crowned with glistening snowcaps, dazzling beneath the azure sky. Shen Xing found a scenic turnout to pull over, snapped a photo embracing the Samoyed with the snow peaks in the background, and resumed his drive.

He drove to Baoshan first to drop his carsick little lump at the airport for cargo transport back to Tianjin. Handing him over to the ground crew, the big furball whined clingily. Shen Xing squatted down to coax him:

“Be a good boy. Fly back, and once you land, Uncle Jiang will pick you up and take you home. Don’t you miss your Bao-ge? Your Bao-ge is waiting for you at home.”

Shen Xing wanted to feed him a small can of food, but worried he might vomit during the flight, so he held back. Watching the airline staff wheel the big white crate away, he forwarded the flight number, airway bill, and pickup details to Jiang Lin:

Hero, the silly dog is checked in. He lands past 10:00 PM tonight, remember to pick him up.

The silly dog would arrive home before he did. The reply was immediate:

Got it, don’t worry.

Just as Shen Xing was about to pocket his phone, another message pinged:

No more mini hot pot paired with iced Coke on the road. And when using service area restrooms, remember to stash two packs of tissues in every pocket.

Shen Xing: “…”

A bear-kicking-someone-flying.jpg landed squarely in Captain Jiang’s chat window, and Shen Xing put his phone away with a laugh.

After sending Qianjin off, Shen Xing hopped onto the expressway heading north. His urge to get home was far more impatient than when he had first driven down. His car was stocked with a case of Red Bull; aside from quick bathroom breaks at rest stops, he barely paused, driving until nearly 11:00 PM before exiting at a nearby county town. Since it wasn’t a holiday, hotels in county towns required no reservations. He parked, grabbed his overnight bag, and checked in.

Unlocking his phone, there was a message Jiang Lin had sent fifteen minutes earlier, featuring a photo of him picking up Qianjin at the airport cargo terminal:

Picked up safely, heading home now. Don’t drive too late, send a video call once you’re settled.

It had only been fifteen minutes, so Jiang Lin probably hadn’t made it back from the airport yet. Shen Xing texted him back, snapped a photo of the hotel room to prove he had stopped, and hopped into the shower.

Jiang Lin had stopped by his apartment after work to pick up Heibao before driving to the airport. After a month and a half apart, Qianjin’s plump figure hadn’t shrunk in the slightest. Just like when he and Shen Xing had picked up the white furball before, the fluffy creature occupied almost the entire crate. The long flight had left him slightly stressed, ears flattened back into airplane mode inside the crate.

“Qianjin?”

Hearing the familiar voice, Qianjin immediately raised his head. Released from the crate, he threw his entire weight into Jiang Lin’s arms. Jiang Lin laughed and rubbed his head:

“Frightened, were you? Heibao is waiting in the car. Let’s go home.”

History repeated itself with alarming precision: once Qianjin got his cuddles, he flat-out refused to walk. Whether his legs had turned to jelly from fear or sheer laziness, he wouldn’t budge no matter how many times Jiang Lin tugged the leash. Ultimately, just as Shen Xing had done before, Jiang Lin had to haul this semi-truck all the way out of the airport terminal in his arms.

The moment he stepped through his apartment door, he returned Shen Xing’s video call. Shen Xing had just emerged from the shower:

“You guys made it home? How’s Qianjin?”

“Just walked in the door. He was a bit wilted getting off the plane, so I carried him out. But now that he sees Heibao and had a small can of food, look—he’s already running wild.”

The camera panned over, and Shen Xing saw his dog trotting curiously around Jiang Lin’s living room, swaying his dandelion-puff tail:

“Your arm can’t bear heavy weight. Is it bothering you right now?”

Jiang Lin’s left hand trembled if he exerted too much grip strength, so Shen Xing was worried. Jiang Lin smiled:

“He’s only thirty-something kilos; I scooped him with one arm, didn’t use my left. I’m fine. Where are you staying?”

“Yanbian County. Exited at the nearest town off the expressway. I should be home the day after tomorrow.”

Jiang Lin checked the map: still 2,400 kilometers to go.

“No rush. Don’t push yourself, take it slow on the road.”

“Hero, you sound just like my mom. I called her earlier and she said the exact same thing. But I’m eager to get home. Arriving the day after tomorrow lands on Friday night, so we can spend the entire weekend together. I miss you.”

That single sentence dismantled Captain Jiang’s defenses entirely, making him forget every word of caution. He felt the exact same way—he missed Shen Xing to death.

True to his word, Shen Xing drove relentlessly under moon and stars for the next two days, churning through 1,200 kilometers a day. Finally, at 10:00 PM on the third night, he exited the expressway in Tianjin. His navigation destination was the home address Jiang Lin had sent him. With ten minutes left on the GPS, Shen Xing called Jiang Lin.

Jiang Lin lived in an upscale garden-apartment complex in a prime location. The instant Shen Xing’s car pulled up to the gates, a familiar silhouette came into view: Captain Jiang, dressed in a white tee and casual loungewear pants, standing beneath the streetlamp outside the gate, his tall, lean frame looking exceptionally upright and slender. The moment Shen Xing saw him, the fatigue from the grueling drive evaporated by half. He pulled over, and Jiang Lin opened the passenger door and slid in. He had clearly just showered; Shen Xing could even catch the crisp scent of mint shampoo on him. Composing himself, Shen Xing asked:

“Why did you come down? Couldn’t you just call the security guard to let me in?”

Jiang Lin ruffled Director Shen’s hair, then leaned in close to kiss the corner of his lips, a tender, fleeting touch:

“It’s your first time coming home. Of course I had to come down to welcome you.”

Given the late hour, Shen Xing only grabbed his overnight bag and followed Jiang Lin upstairs. The moment they stepped through the door, both dogs charged at him. Shen Xing only had time to pet each head once—keeping the bowl level for both—before draping himself completely onto Captain Jiang, his voice raspy:

“I’m exhausted to death. I feel like my arms don’t even belong to me anymore.”

Jiang Lin caught him firmly, heart aching for him:

“I told you taking another night’s rest and getting back tomorrow would be fine. Go take a hot bath, I’ll massage you in a bit.”

Jiang Lin led him straight into the master bedroom. Shen Xing had zero energy left to tour the apartment, but he was thoroughly satisfied with this bedroom: spacious enough, with an enormous bed. Jiang Lin pushed open the en-suite bathroom door. Shen Xing peeked inside: mm, the bathroom is plenty large too.

With a wet-dry partitioned layout, the spacious bathroom housed a bathtub that clearly didn’t come cheap. Right now, the tub was filled with hot water, topped with a thick blanket of bubbles from what must have been a bath bomb. The sheer luxury surprised Shen Xing:

“Didn’t realize you were so into pampering yourself. This isn’t your leftover bathwater, is it?”

Jiang Lin chuckled:

“My mom picked out the tub when the place was renovated. I rarely use it. I scrubbed it down just now and drew the bath for you.”

Shen Xing leaned against him like a raccoon, looping his arms around Jiang Lin’s neck:

“Join me. My neck aches, knead it for me.”

Looking at the man clinging to him, Jiang Lin swallowed the sentence, ‘The tub has built-in massage jets.’

Three minutes later, Director Shen was lounging comfortably in the tub like a wealthy landlord, while Captain Jiang, perched on a small stool like a little handmaiden attending her master, reached in to knead his neck:

“Is this pressure okay?”

Having driven over 3,000 kilometers across three days, Shen Xing was stiff and aching all over. Buoyed by the water’s warmth and with someone massaging his shoulders, he grew blissfully drowsy, humming through his nose:

“Mm… harder.”

Heart aching for him, Jiang Lin kneaded his shoulders, then gently massaged his temples. Watching the clock, he leaned down, kissed his forehead, and coaxed:

“It’s been almost twenty minutes. Let’s get up, rinse off, and go to bed, alright?”

“Mm…”

Shen Xing was overwhelmingly sleepy. In his mind, he felt as if he had already stepped out of the tub and was rinsing under the shower, when in reality, his arm had merely slid along the tub’s rim. It was exactly like being unable to get out of bed for school as a kid—dreaming that you were already dressed, fed, and walking out the door, only to snap awake and realize you were still buried under the covers, moving purely by willpower.

Ultimately, Jiang Lin lifted him out of the water, helped the dazed man rinse off under the shower, towel-dried his hair, and blow-dried it for him—providing full-service care before carrying him back into the bedroom.

Shen Xing had woken up slightly by now. The moment he hit the mattress, he wrapped his arms around the waist of the man beside him, rolling straight into Jiang Lin’s embrace. A fresh yawn brought a dewy sheen of tears to his eyes. Seeing him like this made Jiang Lin’s breathing falter, and he quietly leaned back an inch.

Unfortunately, the slight retreat drew Director Shen’s dissatisfaction:

“Why are you dodging? You don’t want to?”

Left helpless by this teasing little brat, Jiang Lin hooked a hand around the nape of Shen Xing’s neck, giving it a firm, affectionate squeeze:

“Do you take me for some kind of beast? You’re exhausted to the bone and you think I’d still want that? Be good. Get a solid night’s sleep tonight.”

In truth, Shen Xing’s mind was just playfully wandering; if it came to actually doing anything, his body wouldn’t have cooperated anyway. He was too exhausted, terrified he’d pass out midway, but he just couldn’t resist teasing Captain Jiang.

Watching the breathing of the person in his arms even out within minutes, Jiang Lin turned off all the lights in the flat via his phone, wrapped his arms around Shen Xing, and closed his eyes. Out of all the days they had been apart, tonight was the most peaceful, sound sleep he had had.

It was past 10:00 AM the next morning when Shen Xing finally woke up. He felt a furnace in his arms and assumed it was Jiang Lin. Instinctively reaching down to stroke those six-pack abs, his hand landed instead on a handful of squishy flab. Startled, his eyes flew open. Before him was not a handsome, chiseled face with zero bad angles, but a 360-degree, completely round and edgeless, massive furry face.

He squished the Samoyed’s chubby cheeks with all his might, then craned his neck toward the door and bellowed:

“Jiang Lin! Who authorized this bait-and-switch?! Get over here and let me touch your waist!”

_

Author’s Note:

Director Shen never shortchanges himself in the slightest.