Jiang City. Ting Tang Road.
Inside a small adult store called Pleasure Peak, a pale, nervous high school girl stood frozen by the doorway.
"The full package costs nine thousand nine hundred," I said, a cigarette hanging loosely from my lips. "But for a preliminary investigation, you'll need to leave a one-thousand deposit."
I studied her quietly. Her face was delicate—no larger than a palm—and the school uniform made her look even younger, almost fragile. She was thin, almost underfed, yet her chest rose and fell in tense rhythm beneath the fabric, betraying a kind of nervous strength.
Under my gaze, she fidgeted, eyes darting toward the floor.
"I… I only have seventy with me," she murmured. "Could I pay the rest later, when I have the money?
"Seventy it is," I said flatly. "Leave the money on the table, and you can go. You'll get my answer in three days."
"You're… not a scammer, are you?" The girl's voice trembled. The bills in her palm were already damp with sweat.
"Taking a client's request and seeing it through—that's my job," I replied, tugging the crumpled notes from her hand. "Truth, efficiency, discretion, and trust. Those are the rules of this business. What you just said…" I gave a dry laugh. "…sounds a lot like doubting my professional integrity."
I waved her away, and she hesitated for a moment before slipping out the door.
Now, if you're reading this, you're probably thinking I'm the kind of man who bullies schoolgirls and preys on the young.
You wouldn't be the first to think so.
But the truth—like most things worth knowing—doesn't reveal itself that easily.Otherwise, everything I did was for her own good.
My name is Gao Jian, owner of an adult store called Pleasure Peak.
At least, that's the face I show the world.
In truth, the shop is nothing more than a front.
I'm a private investigator.
Missing persons. Body recovery. Corporate espionage. Fraud verification. Marital affairs.
If it skirts the edge of the law but doesn't cross it, my agency takes the case.
Now, back to the girl. Her name was Xia Qingzhi, a senior at Jiang City No.1 High School.
She came to me because of something… extraordinary.
> "My brother, Xia Chi, disappeared a week ago. I think he's been murdered."
That was the first thing she said when she stumbled through the door—face pale, eyes wide with fear.
"For criminal cases," I told her, "you should go to the police."
A high school student like her could hardly afford my services. I'd already lost interest.
> "The police are useless," she insisted. "I've tried everything. No one remembers my brother—not even the records. His name's gone from the household registry. It's like he never existed. Every trace of him… erased."
"You're saying your brother exists only in your memory?"
She didn't look like she was lying.
And that was what made it terrifying.
> "Yes," she whispered. "Everyone's forgotten him—everyone but me."
I lit another cigarette, inhaled deeply, and watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling.
If what she said was true, there were only two explanations:
either something supernatural had occurred—
or she was suffering from severe schizophrenia,
and the "brother" she spoke of was nothing more than another self hiding within her mind.
> "Before your brother vanished," I asked, "was there anything unusual—"