“Detective: I was about to head out to buy some things for the temple. If I’m not back when you’re awake, please accept these two talismans as a token of goodwill and gratitude. Be safe and be well. - Wuzui”

Marcus sighed as he folded the note carefully and put it in his inner pocket along with the two folded pieces of talisman. Bai Gu definitely seemed lost when he first met him, and with recent developments, he began to reevaluate how he handled Bai Gu’s case as well. Maybe things seemed to have turned out okay, but as he just learned recently, maybe things could have turned out way worse for everyone.

“You’re awake.” Master Liaoran came into the inner sanctum, holding an incense burner with one unusually thick and unlit incense stick inside: “It’s quite a long meditation, did you learn something new?”

Marcus sighed then shook his head: “I - I think so, but I need to clear my head and think about it first. Is Wuzui back yet?”

“No, I think he might take a while. It’s not far, just bad roads.” Master Liaoran placed the incense burner on a small wooden altar at the far right corner of the room and lit it up: “How are you feeling?”

“I - well, good, actually.” Marcus tried moving his arms and legs, and felt that the soreness in his limbs had gone down by quite a bit. But then when he looked out the window, he realized that the sky had gone almost completely dark: “Thank you very much Master, looks like I took way longer than we agreed …”

“Don’t worry about it.” Master Liaoran smiled: “Take care, and watch the road when you go back.”

“Thanks, Master.” Marcus was about to go, but was stopped by Master Liaoran.

“Sorry, detective, one more thing.” Master Liaoran handed him a red candle with a thin golden paper strip wrapped around it in a coiling fashion: “When you feel the need to see something, try putting this in a corner that’s furthest away from the door.”

On his way home, Marcus was mostly drowned in his own thoughts about the revelations he might have uncovered from his meditative vision. He did not fully understand it, much less utter its meaning. Yet it seemed to have introduced a slightly different way of utilizing his Qi, one that was less Yang focused, less Shaqi, or in other words less aggression and brute force, and more finesse and acuity. It warranted some experimentation, when he got the chance.

Marcus’ father was already asleep when Marcus got back home. Again this time, there was dinner already prepared on the table, already sealed by plastic wraps. The sound of regular, peaceful snores was coming from the main bedroom, it sounded like his father was having a good dream.

Marcus did not reheat the food at all for he worried that the sound of the microwave would wake his father up, also the food was not that cold anyway.

.

After scrubbing and washing the dishes clean as quietly as possible, Marcus gently opened the door to the main bedroom. The dim lamp by the bed flickered a few times as the door creaked, which caused his father to mumble something and turn around in bed. But he was still asleep, with a smile on his face.

His father's breathing was steady and slow, with no signs of ailment or illness, not obvious ones, anyway. Marcus hesitated for a moment, then he crouched and sneaked to his father’s bedside and placed his fingers onto his father’s left wrist. He was no Master Liaoran, but he knew a thing or two about using Qi to examine someone’s body - he may not be able to perform any detailed diagnosis, but he could still tell if one was generally healthy or not, especially if one was in a calm state of sleep.

Marcus’ Qi seeped into his father’s meridians without facing much resistance. It flowed along his father’s entire arm and a small part of his left shoulder before most of it dissipated and a tiny trace of it returned to Marcus. It seemed like his father’s Meridians were relatively clear and uncongested. Again, better than expected, due to his many years of drowning himself in alcohol.

Marcus thought for a while with Master Liaoran’s candle in hand, but then decided to hold onto it for now. His father seemed happy, and relatively healthy, it would be more prudent to wait and see for now without doing anything to disturb the peace.

The next morning, the sun was barely up, and Marcus noticed that his father had gone out and left him a note on the dining room table, with hot soy milk, steamed buns and fried donuts - his childhood favorites.

“I went for a walk. Got you some breakfast, have a good day at work.”

The soymilk was steaming but not too hot for him, and the steamed buns were fresh and puffy. The fried donuts, on the other hand, were a little over-fried and thus too hard and dry for his taste. He could understand why he loved them as a child though - being over fried meant that they were oily and a little crunchy, which seemed to be more pleasant for kids than for adults.

It was time for another desk-bound day, there were very few new developments in the investigations, yet there was still an endless supply of paperworks. He was looking forward to this day, however, not because of any work related reasons, but because today would be that time of the month when Kevin’s mother cooked him a large box of fried shrimp dumplings, which he usually shared with the rest of the precinct. They were a homey delicacy rarely found in the city, especially in this area.

“Morning, Detective.” Just moments after sitting down by his desk, Kevin’s cheerful voice came, and a small transparent plastic box was placed on Marcus’ desk: “Freshly fried, still hot. Oh, there are a few of them that are made with some crayfish mixed in instead of just shrimp. My suggestion. And feedback totally welcome. ”

“Thank you Kevin.” Marcus laid back on his chair and smiled: “I’m sure it’s gonna taste great. How are you?”

“Good, well, could be better.” Kevin shrugged while chewing his dumpling: “The city lab’s giving me all kinds of delay on the results on the bodies of the reparations team. They said it’s due to higher priority cases and test backlog. Even Dr. Flemmings couldn’t rush them for us.”

“Well, that’s not good.” Marcus frowned: “What can be more important than this case?”

“I asked, they wouldn’t say.” Kevin leaned in a little and lowered his voice: “But you know what I heard? There are some more brutal cases that occured, in the South-Western District, many victims, not that unlike the one we’re looking into here.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, something weird’s going on.” Kevin sighed, shaking his head: “You know, I’ve spent some time looking into the 15 year theory and found some really weird cases. But I will need time to confirm everything.”

“That’s wonderful. Thank you.” Marcus gave Kevin a thumb up: “Great work.”

“Oh, and another thing, unconfirmed.” Kevin lowered his voice even further: “They found that Benson kid. Dead as dead can be, but found him.”

“Huh, okay, where? And why the secrecy?” Marcus opened the box of shrimp and crayfish dumplings Kevin gave him and pulled out his pair of metal chopsticks he brought to the office for this occasion.

“All crushed and burned to a crisp and packed tightly into the car engine space. Kinda ironic because according to the witnesses in the bars and clubs, he was really into this - ”

“Cai!” Captain Ko yelled from the balcony above: “Come on up! Got a new assignment for you.”