She's a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist's Halo-Chapter 78

Zheng Yi's arrival in Ning City this time appeared to be for a Ministry of Public Security conference on the surface.

In reality, she had rushed here immediately after receiving news of the Xie couple's departure from Bin City.

The reopening of cold cases was a multi-threaded effort, and this wasn’t the only case she was pursuing.

Ministry experts were often dispatched when local or even provincial authorities were at a loss—criminal psychology specialists, top forensic analysts in specific fields, forensic anthropology experts, and so on.

But Zheng Yi was different. In the internal system, her profile contained only one line:

**Zheng Yi, Case Expert.**

With her "Justice System's" radar for detecting good and evil, Zheng Yi had single-handedly uncovered drug cartels, led teams in securing high-profile summits, and earned a reputation as a specialist in catching spies and criminals.

Wherever Zheng Yi appeared, whether it was a walking bounty or a fugitive on the run, none could escape.

Aside from cases where local authorities specifically requested her, she spent most of her time in different cities tackling long-unsolved cold cases.

Crimes from nearly two decades ago, where insufficient evidence, underdeveloped investigative techniques, and the passage of time had left many cases unresolved.

Nowadays, with the mandate that all homicide cases must be solved, as long as the police were willing to invest resources—deploying squads of officers, sealing off mountains and streets, working through the night, and leveraging increasingly advanced forensics—current cases were usually cracked quickly.

But cold cases? Those were truly difficult. Memories faded over time, witnesses forgot their own testimonies, and details became hopelessly muddled.

Xie Jin’s case wasn’t particularly old, but progress had been especially slow.

In fact, Zheng Yi had only stumbled upon this cold case half a year ago, and much of that time had been spent poring over case files.

Because the crime had taken place in Bin City, where the Xie family wielded considerable influence, Zheng Yi had refrained from approaching witnesses prematurely to avoid tipping them off.

As a uniquely autonomous expert, she had near-total freedom to go wherever she pleased and take on whichever cases she chose without needing formal assignment.

So, her first move was to observe the Xie couple in Bin City.

When she infiltrated a high-society banquet and saw the black aura hovering over Xie Zhen and his mother, Zheng Yi already knew the answer.

With the truth clear, all that remained was piecing together the evidence.

But intermittent assignments to other cases had forced her to work on this one in fits and starts. Unable to delegate, she relied on her own confidential team, uncovering new evidence bit by bit—enough to make an arrest.

Yet, based on her system’s progress bar, she was certain there was still hidden evidence, so she continued her covert investigation.

Then, after being called away by national security for an international forum in December, she returned less than a month later to find something amiss.

She no longer saw Xie Zhen’s mother, but more startlingly, the black aura over Xie Zhen’s head had vanished.

Not changed—completely gone. This was the first time Zheng Yi had ever encountered such a phenomenon.

After repeatedly verifying with her system that there was no error, she began investigating what had happened during her absence.

According to her surveillance team’s logs, the Xie couple had spent that time frantically seeking divine intervention—donating lavishly to temples, churches, and Daoist shrines, consulting mystics, and even secretly hunting down occult masters.

Reading these records, Zheng Yi fell into deep thought.

In her experience, a significant portion of criminals were superstitious.

Some enshrined their victims in temples, others became monks to atone, reciting sutras daily to cleanse their sins.

So, the moment she saw these reports, a theory formed in her mind:

Was Xie Zhen attempting to use occult means to absolve his crimes—or conceal them?

Especially given that, during this period, Xie Zhen—who had once frequented high-end clubs and secret rendezvous—now moved only through private entrances with his wife, making it nearly impossible for Zheng Yi to track their movements.

Then came the auction news and the leaked rumors about his "inadequacy," which only solidified her conviction.

Xie Zhen wasn’t acting out of madness. He had a purpose.

Like many wicked men who, upon falling ill or suffering nightmares, suddenly feared divine retribution and scrambled to "purify" themselves through charity, Xie Zhen’s sudden change in behavior could only mean one thing.

And when Zheng Yi learned the Xies had urgently arranged a flight to the capital, she raced there overnight.

Through her own channels, she knew an esoteric gathering—the Ascension Assembly—was about to take place, drawing mystics from all over.

She suspected this was their destination, and her instincts sharpened. Xie Zhen leaving Bin City was a golden opportunity to detain him in the capital.

Once there, she was confident she could ensure he faced justice with no chance of escape.

Then, on January 20th, when the black aura reappeared over Xie Zhen’s head, Zheng Yi’s resolve hardened.

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No amount of concealment could erase guilt. She was certain Xie Zhen had come to Ning City seeking occult protection.

Time was of the essence.

Confirming the couple planned to leave the capital the following night, Zheng Yi convened an emergency arrest team, securing all necessary paperwork.

In the bitter cold, her squad maintained relentless surveillance, ensuring they struck before the Xies could flee.

And strike they did.

So—

Yan and Zhu Jue could only watch, stunned, as Xie Zhen was taken away.

Their jaws practically hit the floor.

Though Yan had braced for something when she spotted the "Lady Justice," she hadn’t expected anything this **big**.

The woman’s short hair was sharp, her features unremarkable—neither striking nor flawed, the kind of face easily forgotten.

If not for the golden **[I Am Justice]** halo above her head, Yan might not have remembered Officer Zheng Yi’s face at all.

Yes, Yan had seen the badge. She’d burned the name into her memory.

**Zheng Yi—Justice.** A name that couldn’t have been more fitting.

This was also the first time Yan had ever seen a **detention warrant**.

And both she and Zhu Jue had heard Officer Zheng Yi’s words to Lan Ruo loud and clear:

**"Criminal detention warrant!"**

This was a **criminal case**. No summons, no preliminary questioning—just an immediate arrest.

Yan’s mind raced with scenes from crime dramas: contract killings, arson, all manner of felonies.

At that moment, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief.

Criminal cases like this definitely had nothing to do with Lan Ruo. Thankfully, the two of them had already switched back to their original bodies today—otherwise, wouldn’t Lan Ruo have had to suffer in Xie Zhen’s place while the real Xie Zhen remained at large?

Officer Zheng Yi led a team escorting Xie Zhen away, leaving Yan, Zhu Jue, and Lan Ruo standing where they were.

Yan tilted her head slightly and glanced at Zhu Jue, her eyes silently questioning.

When a suspect was detained, weren’t unrelated bystanders like them supposed to follow for statements?

“The target must have been confirmed to be him alone,” Zhu Jue murmured quietly.

No wonder all the attendants outside the private room had disappeared when they stepped out—it was to make way for the police.

Yan observed Lan Ruo’s expression. She wasn’t even putting on an act in front of them—aside from shock, there wasn’t a trace of sorrow.

“You two must be shaken,” Lan Ruo finally spoke.

Yan waved her hand. “No need to see us off, we’ll leave on our own.”

She glanced in the direction Officer Zheng Yi had gone. The courtyard clubhouse likely had a back exit or another discreet route. A large group escorting Xie Zhen wouldn’t want to risk exposure in the tourist-heavy front area.

Lan Ruo nodded. “Take care. We’ll be in touch later.”

Clearly, Lan Ruo had no time for further pleasantries. Yan and Zhu Jue decided to distance themselves from this trouble immediately.

Even after leaving the mysterious clubhouse, the two didn’t linger in the nearby tourist-filled alleys. Instead, they boarded the subway straight home.

Yan still felt uneasy.

“Jue, do you think we’ll suddenly get called in for questioning?”

She wasn’t opposed to giving a statement—what worried her was the possibility of officers showing up unannounced. And how were they supposed to explain the whole body-swapping situation between Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo? The thought made her head spin.

Zhu Jue considered it. “Maybe they won’t contact us.”

“If it’s a criminal case, it probably didn’t happen within the last month or so. At most, it’s been barely six weeks since we first met them.”

Yan nodded. “True. Immediate detention means the evidence must be solid.”

She muttered under her breath, “I only expected him to show up in tabloids, not crime reports.”

With ears all around them on the subway, the two didn’t dare say much more.

Outwardly, Yan and Zhu Jue appeared unbothered, but their minds were heavy as they returned home.

Tan Dabao and Tan Xiaobao had gone out for dinner, leaving the apartment quiet. Yan and Zhu Jue sat on the sofa, leaning against each other, heads touching.

They scrolled through their phones, searching for updates from the Beijing police and gossip about the Xie family.

Nearly an hour had passed since they left the clubhouse, yet no rumors had surfaced—proof of airtight secrecy.

“By now, Lan Ruo must have informed the Xie family,” Yan mused.

“A criminal case… What could it be?” She tapped her chin.

Since the Xies were a prominent family in Bin City, Yan had only dug up romantic scandals and mother-in-law drama from Boss Tu after their encounter at Fayansi Temple.

Yan suspected Boss Tu might have guessed something if he’d divined it. But with Xie Zhen freshly arrested and details unclear, as eyewitnesses, they had to keep their mouths shut.

The more she thought about it, the more restless Yan became.

If she couldn’t talk, she’d dig deeper online—scouring years-old news, even social reports.

As Yan and Zhu Jue hunted for traces of Xie family scandals, Tan Dabao and Tan Xiaobao returned at 3 p.m., carrying milk tea and snacks.

“You’re back!” Tan Xiaobao chirped.

Yan eyed them. “Weren’t you going to Joy City? Why so late?”

“Ugh, don’t ask. There was a car accident on the way—traffic was a nightmare. Should’ve taken the subway,” Tan Xiaobao grumbled.

A car accident?

Yan’s mind flashed with realization. She exchanged a look with Zhu Jue.

She remembered—among the Xie family gossip, the original heir, Xie Jin (the eldest son from the first wife), had died in a car crash.

Could Xie Zhen’s criminal case be related?

Xie Jin had already been managing the conglomerate for years when the accident happened, sparking major turmoil. Some media even speculated about the Xie family’s decline, causing stocks to plummet.

Back when Yan had first searched for gossip, she’d stumbled upon five-year-old news remnants. Comments from Xie Group employees mourned the loss—under Xie Jin’s leadership, benefits improved, overtime decreased, and the CEO famously ate in the cafeteria with staff.

Given Xie Jin’s status, the case had drawn heavy scrutiny. The final report ruled it an accident.

And at the time of the crash? Xie Zhen was photographed partying in a bar, arms around a minor celebrity.

*Xie CEO Dies in Crash—Xie Zhen Locked in Passionate Kiss with Starlet, Investors Panic!*

*Can Mingxie Group Survive Without Xie Jin?*

Even worse, Xie Zhen didn’t rush to the hospital until the next morning—caught by paparazzi leaving a hotel.

Back then, the scandals had rolled in nonstop.

Yan and Zhu Jue unearthed old relics—news clips, gossip threads, and comments:

*“My dad saw the news about Xie Jin’s crash and just froze. He spent all night crying over the stock app.”*

*“The Xies only have two sons, right? Besides tabloid headlines, what has Xie Zhen ever accomplished?”*

*“Guess the Xies are done as a family business. Or will the old CEO come out of retirement?”*

*“Could this be corporate sabotage?”*

*“Didn’t Xie Zhen once say, when asked about the company, ‘No plans. My brother handles work—I enjoy life. Why volunteer for misery?’”*

Following these breadcrumbs, Yan skimmed through blurry interview clips and archived gossip posts.

“Jue, this looks even more suspicious,” Yan whispered.

The overwhelming coverage from five years ago painted Xie Zhen as a playboy—carousing with celebrities, flaunting his alibi in front of paparazzi.

Digging further into past interviews revealed Xie Zhen’s reputation: a spoiled socialite, loafing around the entertainment scene with other rich brats, spewing arrogant rants, famously living off his brother’s wealth.

In one interview after Xie Jin’s death, when asked if foul play was possible, Xie Zhen had publicly vowed: *“If my brother’s crash wasn’t an accident, I’ll make sure the culprit pays with their life.”*

It was precisely because Xie Zhen's reputation as a "good-for-nothing playboy heir" had been so deeply ingrained in people's minds, coupled with his solid alibi and his own repeated public statements, that most dismissed him as a suspect—except for those gossipmongers who speculated based on his status as a "beneficiary."

Yan and Zhu Jue spent their time digging up old gossip, watching a dramatic family feud unfold within the Xie family across a five-year gap.

"Who knew it dragged on for so long back then?" Yan remarked, clicking her tongue.

From the car accident that claimed the life of the eldest Xie brother to the subsequent corporate turmoil—forcing the patriarch to step out of retirement to stabilize the plummeting stock prices—and Xie Zhen being forcibly dragged by bodyguards into the Xie family offices every day for two months to "work," it had all been hot gossip among netizens at the time.

People back then had been thoroughly entertained, even placing bets on how long Xie Zhen would last in his coerced office job. Insiders leaked daily updates about his explosive arguments with the old Mr. Xie and other executives.

The spectacle unfolded every few days, but as netizens grew weary of the drama, the Xie Corporation gradually stabilized. Three years after the eldest Xie's death, the patriarch—who had returned from retirement—stepped back again, and Xie Zhen officially took over.

The old gossip was so riveting that Yan, engrossed in her phone, felt dizzy from staring too long.

"We were only in middle school back then—we totally missed this," Yan said to Zhu Jue.

"I think I vaguely remember it, but since it happened in Bin City, it felt pretty distant from us," Zhu Jue replied.

After catching up on the Xie family's past scandals, the two felt mentally overloaded from the sheer amount of information they’d absorbed.

Yan slowly nibbled on the beef jerky Tan Xiaobao had bought earlier, now lying with her head resting on Zhu Jue’s lap after spending too much time on her phone.

Zhu Jue’s warm fingers gently massaged her forehead and scalp.

"Hey, what are we eating tomorrow after shopping for clothes? It shouldn’t be too crowded, right? Should I text the SA in advance?" Tan Xiaobao chimed in from the side.

"Anything but hotpot," Yan said.

They’d already had hotpot three times since returning home. Though perfect for winter, she was officially sick of it.

Tan Dabao sat cross-legged on the floor with his laptop. Yan glanced at the rapidly flashing lines of code on the screen and immediately shut her eyes—it was making her dizzy.

"Barbecue? No, that’ll leave us smelling like smoke, and it’ll be annoying when trying on clothes later. Let me think…"

After Zhu Jue’s massage, Yan’s head felt much better.

She suddenly grabbed Zhu Jue’s hands, which had been pressing against her temples, and playfully swung them back and forth.

By six in the evening, the parents returned one after another. Yan and Zhu Jue discreetly observed their expressions—everything seemed normal.

The moment Madam Yu walked in and saw her daughter sprawled across the sofa, she teased, "You lazybones, don’t tell me you’ve been lying around all day."

"I haven’t!" Yan retorted immediately.

She stuck her tongue out at her mom before Zhu Jue helped her up with an arm around her waist, and the three of them—Yan, Tan Dabao, and Tan Xiaobao—settled on the floor.

That night, right before bed, Yan was still scrolling through various apps, searching for keywords—but not a single piece of news had surfaced.

……

Late at night, Ding Ling received a call from her team leader.

Her constitution didn’t require much sleep, so she had merely been resting with her eyes closed on the hotel bed.

When the leader asked if she could come to his room to talk, she knew something must have happened.

"Ling, regarding the soul-swapping Xie couple you reported—our team in Bin City has already arrived and found something," the leader said, his expression grave but his eyes filled with unconcealed astonishment.

"Oh." Ding Ling wasn’t surprised.

Finding something was expected—otherwise, there’d be no explanation for the sudden, inexplicable body-swap.

But that alone wouldn’t have warranted a late-night visit.

She remained silent, waiting for the leader’s next words.

"Xie Zhen was taken away by the police in Ning City today—a criminal case. Our people ran into theirs at the Xie family’s villa in Bin City," the leader explained quickly.

Ding Ling’s pupils constricted. "A criminal case?"

"Homicide. You should know about it," the leader said, his gaze growing increasingly peculiar.

She pressed, "When was he arrested?"

"According to the latest intel from coordination, he was taken in at noon today. The investigative team is one of the Ministry’s most secretive—no one ever knows their movements."

Ding Ling froze. A criminal case—homicide—arrested at noon—an ultra-classified police unit.

"I knew this team was previously assigned to national-level security operations. I never expected them to suddenly swoop in and arrest Xie Zhen."

"Ling, you foresaw all this, didn’t you?" The leader’s tone was weary.

"You… you never cease to amaze."

Hearing his sigh, Ding Ling immediately wanted to deny it.

This wasn’t her doing—it was Yan and the others!

Now, clarity dawned in Ding Ling’s eyes. She murmured under her breath, "So that’s it. That’s it."

She had only left the Xie family’s courtyard that morning, having restored Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo’s souls to their rightful bodies in the early hours.

Originally, Ding Ling had been slightly puzzled—why had Yan and the others waited until now to act, despite meeting the Xie couple over a month ago?

She had assumed Yan was observing whether they were worth helping. Never had she imagined that Yan had foreseen everything.

The timing—what an uncanny coincidence that it happened today.

The night before last, Yan had contacted her for help. Yesterday, they’d unexpectedly met at the courtyard, where Yan confirmed the timing.

And Yan had already brought the two necessary artifacts with her.

"Everything was for today," Ding Ling thought.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍secret unit the leader mentioned likely had clearance levels comparable to their Special Cases Team. The sudden arrest today might have been planned long ago.

But Yan had anticipated it all, as if she held the entire picture in her hands.

Or perhaps, Yan had seen it all from a higher vantage point, then stepped in at the last moment to pull Lan Ruo out.

Otherwise, it would have been poor Lan Ruo sitting in a detention cell right now.

Most likely, from the very first meeting over a month ago, Yan had already foreseen today’s outcome.

With an imperceptible flick of her sleeve in realms beyond ordinary sight, Yan had nudged the threads of causality into place—ensuring Ding Ling successfully extracted Lan Ruo while keeping Yan and Zhu Jue entirely uninvolved.

"Divine foresight, calculating every move," Ding Ling whispered.

Yesterday, in the Xie family’s courtyard, Ding Ling had noticed Yan and Zhu Jue’s cold indifference toward Xie Zhen.

At the time, she’d assumed they simply disliked him—just as she did.

But now she understood—they had known everything. Their gazes had been those reserved for the dead.

"The power of time and space," she murmured.

"Ling, what did you say?" the leader asked.

"Nothing," Ding Ling shook her head.

She would handle this matter properly. Yan and the others had never directly intervened—they had merely made a subtle move on the chessboard, letting events unfold naturally. She wouldn’t allow the peaceful lives of the young couple to be disturbed.

"By the way, Team Leader, you mentioned something about a mysterious figure at this year’s Ascension Assembly?" Ding Ling suddenly brought up.

"There is one, but it’s confidential for now. Even I don’t know the details. All I’ve heard is that a master who has entered the Dao will be attending, but no one knows which sect they belong to or their identity," the team leader replied.

"I came to give you a heads-up—the team will help coordinate everything. Don’t worry, you’ve earned another major merit." With that, the team leader leisurely left the room.

Ding Ling’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. She didn’t correct the team leader’s assumption that she was the one orchestrating things behind the scenes.

For now, to protect Yan and Zhu Jue’s identities, this was the only way. Ding Ling planned to clear her name once the two had completed their journey of cultivation and self-reflection.

The clock had already passed midnight, yet Ding Ling remained wide awake. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her hotel room, gazing at the city lights beyond.

"Time and space manipulation… has it reached the point where the past and future can be grasped?" she murmured.

"This goes far beyond merely entering the Dao…"

Yan, oh Yan. Every time she thought she had finally understood Yan and Zhu Jue, another revelation would strike, shattering her worldview all over again.

Now, Ding Ling was certain—Yan had touched the barriers of time. Over a month ago, they had foreseen today’s conclusion. Without lifting a finger, they had subtly shifted the winds, guiding everything silently toward its destined end.

Such power, such ability… Ding Ling wondered if Yan and Zhu Jue had never truly been the "youngsters" she had imagined them to be.

Even the most prodigious genius couldn’t manipulate the threads of time and causality before the age of twenty. It was impossible.

Perhaps, like her, Yan and Zhu Jue had lifespans far beyond those of their peers—sealed memories, reincarnated souls slowly awakening?

Ding Ling’s expression grew solemn. Could it be… that Yan and Zhu Jue were ancient ancestors of one of the hidden sects?