Yuanxin Matchmaking Agency (15)

“Evil gets its just deserts—what a great story. But was it really an accident?” An Shu felt a little uneasy.

After all, the accident that severed his manhood felt far too much like deliberate retribution.

It wasn't that she felt any pity for the deceased's family, nor was she trying to uphold some sense of legal justice. It was just that if ghosts or spirits were at work, things could easily spiral out of control and harm innocent bystanders. That was the real cause for concern.

“It really was an accident. We also suspected some supernatural retribution at first, but we checked the scene with our instruments multiple times and found no trace of anomalous energy.”

Quickly finishing her breakfast, An Shu rubbed her throbbing temples and prepared to head back to the archives to catch up on some sleep. Having pulled an all-nighter, she was reaching her absolute limit.

But just as she approached the cafeteria exit, she spotted Brother Li from Unit Two.

His hair was a messy nest, his face was covered in stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot. He held two meat buns, taking massive, aggressive bites as if venting his anger on them, a thoroughly sour look plastered across his face.

An Shu's gossip radar immediately went off. Halting her steps, she walked over and asked, “Brother Li, what's wrong? You look awful. Who set you off?”

“Aren't you guys supposed to be screening the remaining Infected? Did something go wrong?”

Chewing on his bun, Brother Li mumbled, “No issues! What could possibly go wrong?!”

His tone was thick with resentment, and he bit into the bun with even more force, treating it as a literal punching bag.

An Shu paused, raising an eyebrow. “Huh? No issues? Then why do you look like you're about to explode?”

“Besides, shouldn't you be breathing a sigh of relief after finishing the screening? Why are you so angry instead?”

But no matter how much An Shu pried, Brother Li just kept his head down and stuffed his face with buns, refusing to say another word, the resentment on his face not fading in the slightest.

Sensing that she was about to annoy him, An Shu tactfully took her leave. As she walked away, she couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

Driven by curiosity, she completely forgot about her sleep. She turned back to the archives and logged into the Bureau of Investigation's internal database.

As an archivist, she had the authorization to retrieve closed case reports—though only those that weren't classified under high-security clearance.

If even a single detail of a case was classified, she would have to go through a formal application process to view it.

An Shu did a quick search and found that this case had already been closed. Its classification level was the same as before, meaning it fell under the category of files she could access without submitting an application.

She carefully browsed through the case report and quickly understood why Brother Li had looked so miserable.

Putting herself in his shoes, she realized her own expression would have been even worse.

The final conclusion of the report read: The deceased, Jie Zhuoshi, did not die from an outbreak of Anomalous Infection, but rather from a rare and severe pollen allergy.

This allergic reaction was extremely severe, causing respiratory distress and organ dysfunction upon onset. Because the manner of death closely resembled an Anomalous Infection outbreak, it had been misdiagnosed at the start.

Working themselves to the bone, pulling overtime, and screening everyone in a state of constant anxiety, only to find out they had been on the wrong track from the very beginning—anyone would have snapped.

“A pollen allergy?” An Shu muttered to herself. “Another accident?”

Wasn't the rate of "accidental" deaths lately a bit too high?

Leaning back in her chair, she carefully recalled the series of homicides the Bureau of Investigation had handled over the past week.

One case after another, all ruled as accidents with absolutely no anomalous forces involved. Yet, every single one of them was bizarre beyond belief.

Furthermore, the intervals between them were incredibly short. They were concentrated over the past few days, with roughly one death per day. Wasn't that far too regular?

An Shu whispered to herself, “This is way too strange... Is it really just a coincidence?”

She had a nagging feeling that there had to be a connection. These seemingly unrelated accidents might not be coincidences at all; they just hadn't found the breakthrough yet.

All evidence pointed to accidents, with no traces of anomalous activity. If this were a normal world, then no matter how suspicious An Shu felt, she would have no way to investigate further.

But this was not a normal world.

In a world where supernatural forces and spirits existed, even the impossible could become reality.

The very first lesson for an investigator was to learn to question—to question anything that felt slightly off, no matter how minor, even if those doubts turned out to be wrong.

It was always better than letting an incident happen due to a moment of complacency.

An Shu first shared her thoughts with her teammates in their group chat, serving as a formal heads-up.

Reporting one's findings and intentions was a great practice. Otherwise, if you ended up dead in some freak incident, your teammates wouldn't even know where to look for your body.

With that done, she abandoned all thoughts of sleeping. Feeling as though she had been injected with adrenaline, she began searching for commonalities among the deceased.

Unlike Si Diyi and Jie Zhuoshi, Zhai Laiyi's death didn't make the local news. However, because of the bizarre nature of his demise, the story quickly spread across various video-sharing platforms.

Real life might not have a massive audience, but it certainly had plenty of onlookers who loved a good piece of gossip.

Even though Bai Ci didn't actively look for it, she still stumbled upon a video of the incident captured from a neighbor's perspective while scrolling through a video app.

The man was dead, and his reputation was utterly ruined. For someone like him, there could be no better ending.

Perhaps Cheng Yin was unaware of the death, or maybe she knew but found it inappropriate to discuss with a client.

Either way, she called Mother Bai the following morning as usual, her tone warm and enthusiastic as she scheduled a meeting with a new blind date for that afternoon.

She was certainly a highly efficient matchmaker, even if the quality of her recommendations was consistently terrible.

“Auntie Bai, please don't worry or be anxious. The previous ones simply weren't meant to be,” Cheng Yin's voice came through the receiver, sounding incredibly sincere.

“The one I found for little sister Bai Ci this time is absolutely reliable. He's young but already quite successful, very energetic, and he'll definitely get along well with her.”

Mother Bai had already been deeply unsettled lately due to the curse, and with four consecutive blind dates falling through, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of panic.

When she looked at Bai Ci, her eyes held a clear plea alongside her silent inquiry.

Bai Ci remained as calm and unbothered as ever, simply nodding in response.

She wanted to see just what kind of scumbag the Yuanxin Matchmaking Agency would dig up next.

Just like the previous four times, the appointment was set for three in the afternoon at the cafe right next to the Yuanxin Matchmaking Agency.

Mother Bai specially picked out a light blue dress for Bai Ci, repeatedly urging her not to keep a cold face this time. Even if she didn't like him, she should at least try to have a decent conversation and not just stand up and walk out like last time.

Bai Ci gave her verbal agreement but paid it no mind.

She knew all too well that the people introduced by the Yuanxin Matchmaking Agency would never fail to disappoint her mother.

When the two arrived at the cafe, the fifth blind date was already waiting at a table by the window.

He wore trendy streetwear, his hair was dyed a light brown, and he held a phone in his hand with the screen lit up, seemingly busy replying to messages.

“Auntie Bai, Miss Bai, hello. I'm Hai Bugou.”

Seeing them enter, Hai Bugou immediately put down his phone, stood up, and greeted them. His tone was casual, and his eyes quickly swept over Bai Ci, sizing her up with undisguised scrutiny.

“Teacher Cheng told me about you. Miss Bai, you're even prettier than in your photos.”